


Happiness Is A Four Letter Word

by Verbaltonic



Category: Original Work
Genre: AU, Abuse, Age Difference, Age Gap Love, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Custody Battle, Forbidden, Forbidden Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Physical Abuse, Social Anxiety, manxboy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbaltonic/pseuds/Verbaltonic
Summary: Mason is a 15 year old boy that has had to deal with abuse for most of his life. For as long as he can remember, he has always been fascinated with the idea of being a professional author. But those dreams seem too far-fetched as his parents pulled him out of school to stay home, cook and clean.He feels that all hope of a better life is gone and that he is doomed to be living in the shadows of his parents forever...Until a social worker comes up to his door.





	1. Helping Hand

_"I always knew there was something special about you. From the way you looked at me like I was everything and more to the way that you always put others before yourself. My lips would burn should I ever utter a distasteful comment of you. My lips would burn with insincerity. Untruth."_

_\- Mason Gray_

\------

 

"MASON!"

I scrambled downstairs upon hearing my father's angry shout for me. I had went upstairs earlier to start cleaning the house but somehow I had managed to fall asleep while making my bed. My heart pounded audibly at the thought that my parents were now back from work and the place was still a mess.

How could I let this happen?!

"Y-Yes?" I answered meekly as I entered the kitchen, halting in the doorway to maintain a safe distance. He turned to face me, his face visibly red with anger as he stared me down with hateful eyes. "You little shit!" he shouted suddenly, making my body jolt as the loud sound caught me off guard.

"I'm out all day breaking my fucking back to provide for you! And this is the thanks I get?!" he yelled, gesturing at the full sink of unwashed dishes and messy kitchen. I said nothing, looking everywhere else except into his cold eyes. I spotted my mother at the small table, still in her work uniform and casually smoking a cigarette - completely unfazed by what was happening.

I turned back to my father just in time to see him hastily pluck a dirty plate from the sink and throw it right at my face. "I'm fucking talking to you!" I heard him shout angrily as I quickly ducked the flying object, letting it crash into the wall behind me.

I heard the sound of the shattered ceramic fall all around me as tears of fear began to blur my vision. "Come here," he said in a scarily calm voice, beckoning me closer with a thick, dirty finger. I hesitantly walked towards him, knowing that things would be worse if I denied his demand.

His oil-stained hands grabbed at my long hair, tugging roughly to pull my closer. My head dipped as I tried to pry his hands out of my hair. He rapidly punched down on the back of my head before releasing me and slapping me into the fridge. My back bounced off of it from the force and I fell off to the side, hitting my forehead on the edge of the counter.

I stayed on my knees, in too much pain to move. Before I could even catch my breath, my father was on top of me, pinning me down with his weight while taking shots to my face with his right fist. I tried turning away from his punches but they still had the same effect as if I were collecting them head-on.

Turning my head to the left, the last thing I saw was my mother still sitting casually in the exact same spot, having a smoke.

Then everything went black.

====

 

I awoke to pain all over.

Looking around, I found myself still laying on the kitchen floor. The sun was down and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight coming in through the thin curtains. I forced myself to sit up, rinsing off all of the dried blood on my skin in the sink.

Forcing my body to move, I managed to clean the whole house besides my parents' room because they were currently inside it. By the time I had finished and checked everywhere to make sure nothing was out of place, my whole body was hurting in protest.

My joints burned as I walked up the stairs leading to my room. Reaching out to open the door, it refused to open. I pushed it again just to make sure. It still wouldn't open. I sighed when I realised they had locked it.

My parents locked my room door as punishment whenever I did something wrong - like not cleaning it, oversleeping or even when I used it to escape their violence by locking myself inside away from them. I'd usually spend those nights sleeping on the floor by the fireplace.

Which is where I slept that night.

====

 

Switching on the radio, I played music throughout the house while I cleaned. You would think that cleaning in the middle of the night would mean that it would still be clean tomorrow morning, but I wasn't that lucky. During their morning routine of getting ready for work, my parents had messed it all up.

Right after I had finished cleaning up, I opened the fridge to look for something to eat. My stomach's been growling since I didn't eat dinner last night and I haven't had anything to eat in the morning. I wasn't allowed to eat breakfast until all of the house chores were done.

My parents had drilled that rule in so hard that even when they're not around, I still follow it.

There was only an almost-finished jar of mayonnaise and a sliced onion. Grabbing the jar of mayo, I put the remaining bit into the last slice of bread, folding it in half and taking a bite. It tasted a bit dry but it would have to do. I sat on the couch, flipping to an educational channel that I would always watch since I didn't go to school.

I haven't been to school since the fourth grade and by now I was supposed to be a Sophomore in high school, but my parents decided that they would much rather prefer to drink the school fees money instead.

They made me tell everybody that I was being homeschooled now when I was actually just being a useless accessory at home.

But I made the most of my situation by watching children's learning programmes when my parents were away. I even used my old books to make notes - but those were almost filled with notes and soon I'd have to make a plan to get more. Retrieving the books from my hiding spot in the attic, I spread them out on the living room floor.

Currently playing was a maths program and I rushed to flip the channel to something else and wait for the next program to begin. I always hated maths. I could never follow the equations; they'd always lose me in the middle and it only frustrated me whenever I couldn't understand something.

I took the opportunity to make myself a cup of tea since we were out of my favourite juice. I learnt to make my own tea a long time ago - by the age of 10, I could do it without burning myself. I was way too resourceful for my age but with the parents that I have... I've had to grow up pretty quickly - quicker than I would have liked to.

Nobody taught me how to cook. I learnt from trial and error. If it was too salty, I'd get beaten. If it was too bland, I'd get beaten. If the soup was too runny, the soup was too thick, the rice sticky, the food spicy, the meat overcooked...

I'd get beaten to a pulp until it was good enough.

I put off cooking until later when it was almost time for my parents to come home - deciding to relax my sore body and take a hot shower. After my shower, I took some clean clothes from the dryer since my bedroom was still off-limits. As I placed the chicken in the sink to thaw, I heard a knock on the front door.

"Coming!" I called out, walking towards it. Pulling the door open, I came face to face with Ms Garcia, a sweet lady that lived across the street. She would always come by the house to offer me food. I think that she had a feeling I was being mistreated. She'd always offer to help around the house and sometimes she'd even give me money! I kept that part secret, however.

She always gets this look in her eyes and asks if I was okay - God forbid I ever tell her I wasn't.

"Good morning, Ms Garcia," I greeted, stepping into the gap between the door and the threshold. Her smile instantly fell as her face paled. "Mason..." she whispered in shock. I automatically knew what was wrong, self-consciously lowering my head in an attempt to hide the bruises littering my face. "Is there something you want to tell me, honey?" she said in a knowing tone.

"It's nothing, Mrs Garcia. I just... I got into a fight," I lied smoothly. She stared at me, her eyes revealing that she didn't believe a word I said. "We both know that isn't true..."

"Did you need something?" I cut her off in slight frustration, disregarding her statement. She stared for a while before dropping it. "I know you must be hungry. I got up a bit early today and made some tamales. I brought you some," she said with a smile small, holding up the large container I hadn't noticed until now.

"Thank you, Mrs Garcia," I said gratefully, reaching out to take it but she held it just out of my reach. 

"Let me heat them and put it on a plate for you," she said, not waiting for a reply before gently pushing her way into the house. "Oh no. I got this--" I tried to protest but she just waved me off, heading for the kitchen. Maybe this is why she gave me so much joy... She was the only person who treated me like a kid.

Having parents like mine meant I was robbed of my childhood so it just filled the void when she did things for me that my own parents never did; things other parents did for their kids.

I stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, my brain desperately trying to find something I could do. I felt myself start to fidget. Why am I just standing here when something somewhere in the house needs to be done?! I turned my attention to the TV upon hearing a familiar tune.

It was my English program starting.

I instantly felt my body relax. This must be the only subject I actually feel emotionally connected to. It just had the ability to take me away. English was my passion. I dreamed of being a writer, you know? I dreamed of having the ability to take people away with my words the same way that the words of others took me away.

The thought alone was enough to make me forget that Mrs Garcia was still here. Upon hearing her footsteps, I hurriedly gathered my books and hid them by the TV, turning the TV off in embarrassment. I'm not sure why but I was just embarrassed at the thought of her seeing me like this; learning and taking notes through a bloody TV show.

"Here you go!" she smiled, bringing a big plate carrying more tamales than it was probably made to hold. She set the heavy-looking plate on the table and gently pushed me to sit, taking a seat beside me. "Eat, sweetie. You really are too thin," she pressured, patting my thigh before getting the plate and settling it on my lap.

I slowly took one and she watched me eat it carefully. I felt the flavour erupt in my mouth and heard a moan, realizing that the sound came from me! She giggled at that, watching me devour the rest. I quickly finished it, hastily taking another one as if they were running away.

We sat on the couch for a while and spoke as I ate, until she suddenly stopped and took on a serious expression. "Mason..." she started, the tone of her voice even changing. I already knew what this was about and sighed as I prepared myself for the talk I knew we were sure to be having right now.

"I know what they do to you, honey... Your parents.. I've known for a while now... I'm not a rocket scientist, baby, but it's not hard to see that you... Mason, you're being mistreated here!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied quickly, refusing to make eye contact. "See? This is why! Everytime I try to talk to you about this, you always deny it. You don't let me get a word in; this is why I never really said anything, but believe me, I'm not blind to what's happening here."

"I-- You don't know anything," I heard myself mumble. I snapped out of the imaginary world I was in with her, coming back to reality and seeing that it was almost 5pm already. Well... not really. It was only 2pm. But that was close! And I still didn't cook that chicken! "Please, Ms Garcia, you need to leave now. My parents will be home soon. I need to.... You... I..."

"Chiquito," she cut off my senseless rambles, putting both palms on my face to calm me which worked. I exhaled, finally making eye contact and listening to her. "I can help you," she whispered in pure concern, "I know a social worker. His name is Mr. Harrison. Please, Mason... You don't need to be with such bad people. I can tip him off about your living situation. He can take you away from those evil peop--"

"NO!" I shouted, shooting up into a stiff upright position instead of my relaxed slack on the couch, "Take me away?! No, Ms Garcia, I... I can't! He... nobody is going to take me anywhere!" I panicked just thinking of how my parents would react to this kind of... madness! A social worker?!

Oh, the beating I would get...

"Listen, just relax, okay?" she said softly, gently pushing both of my shoulders back. I felt my body obey and move to lay down on the couch. "I know you might be frightened by the change, Chiquito, but I promise you... everything will be alright. Honey, no place they could ever put you in could be worse than this. Look at you, Mason!" she whispered, her smooth voice laced with concern and gentleness.

Had I only now noticed how enticing her accent was?

She loomed over me and I felt myself relax under her. I was suddenly so aware of how tired I was and how my body was aching for rest. Suddenly, I was so aware of everything around me -- aware of how her voice was as smooth as honey... flowing through my ears like a relaxing running river.

So aware of how her gentle hands rested on my shoulders; touching me... massaging me... the soothing rubbing of her hands ushering me to unconsciousness with a subtle yet staggering push. My eyes felt heavy. I struggled to make out her face in the blurring of my vision. I came to and slowly her face begun to grow details.

So beautiful; so kind.

I wished my mother could be this kind. Maybe she would be more beautiful if she were... My thoughts ran away with me. My mother... she would be home in a few hours... I must do something. Correct something... Maybe later... No! Now!... But why now when there is later?

The voices in my head argued in a symphony of noise. Should I go or should I stay in this trance? I did not know. The cacophony within confounded me, rendering me to an unresponsive mute. I turned to Ms Garcia with droopy eyes, seeking answers I hoped she had.

"It's okay, baby. I know you must be exhausted. You do so much, Mason.... Go to sleep," she hushed, brushing a soft hand through my hair.

And that was all I needed.

====

I finally awoke to the smell of good food and slowly sat up after adjusting my eyes to the lighting - more accurately, the lack of light in the room - and estimating the time. It looked to be a bit past 5 and I worried about Ms Garcia's whereabouts. I was NOT allowed to have people over at all.

God forbid my parents ever find out she's been coming here almost everyday.

Calling out to her from the couch, I fully expected no response but when she popped out of the kitchen and smiled at me from the threshold, I lost my breath. She usually left by 4 so why was she still here. Where were my parents? What if they walked through the door and saw her here?

This was bad...

This was very bad.

"You're up! Well, I cooked the chicken I saw in the sink and some rice. I didn't make it too spicy so don't worry," she giggled, pushing back a lose curly strand that slipped from the messy bun I noticed she didn't have when she arrived.

My face filled with gratitude and appreciation for her. "Thank you so much," I whispered gratefully. She smiled wider, waving me off. "It's no problem, Mijo, you know how I love to cook!"

I smiled and nodded at that. If there was one thing I knew about her, it was that she was passionate about food. I watched her walk towards me and take her shoes from beside the couch, slipping them back on. "I need to leave now. Time to start dinner at my own home. Enrique and the rest of the family are coming over and those people eat like it's an Olympic sport!"

We laughed at that as I got up to walk her out of the house. I opened the door for her and put a hand on the small of her back to gently usher her out like I always saw in the movies. "I was serious about the help, Mason," she said randomly, getting serious, "Please... let me help you."

I quickly weighed my options. If I said no right now, she would try to convince me which would mean she'd stay longer and get me caught. But if I just went with it, she'd leave peacefully and nobody would ever know she was even here. "Alright. Okay. Yes," I humoured her and thankfully she just nodded and walked off.

"Good night, sweetie. Oh, and your shirt is on the kitchen table. I forgot!" she chuckled, walking off with a wave. Looking down, I realized my shirt was really off and the cuts on my torso had plasters on them with a gauze around my upper arm. I smiled in endearment at her handiwork, lifting my head to thank her.

But as soon as I lifted my head and saw the back of her body still getting off the porch, I saw a familiar car drive up the road adjacent to the house. I stood frozen with one hand holding the door open and the other just dangling. Looking into the car, I could see my parents watching her walk away from the house.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion and they cruised up to the house. They watched her run across the road and still stared until she entered her own home before their attention turned to me. I stood stiff in the doorway, unable to react or even breathe.

They had seen her.

They had seen me with her.

This was a giant mess...


	2. Everything

_"Teach me the language of your mind.  
I want to speak you; I want to be inside your head.  
Teach me the notes of your being.  
I want to sing you; I want to harmonize with your soul.  
Teach me the rhythm of your heart.  
I want to feel you.  
I want to dance in all your love."_

_\- Mason Gray_

\------

Despite knowing we had already been caught, I still retreated to the house in a hurry, taking my shirt from the kitchen and quickly slipping into it to hide the bandages. I grabbed the container of tamales from the counter and stuffed it into the drawer with cleaning supplies. They never cleaned anything for themselves so they'd never stumble upon it.

There was no need for my parents to know that she had cared for my injuries and there was no need for them to know that she had even brought me food.

I went back into the living room, glad that everything was clean but still anxious that they would hit me for being with Ms Garcia. The door opened and my mother entered first, glaring at me as she took off her shoes before proceeding to scan the house as if she was looking for something to be mad about.

Not seeing anything, she remained silent, simply giving me the look of resentment she always gave me before walking into the kitchen. My father entered next. He paused in the doorway to stare me down. My heart raced in fear. I suppose I was more afraid of him than I was of my mother. He was always the one who beat me the most after all.

I looked down at the floor as I heard him slowly close the door. His footsteps got closer and I swallowed hard, preparing myself for whatever might come my way. "So this is what you do in my house? Hm?" he growled, halting right in front of me.

I stayed quiet, not saying anything out of fear for him. But something felt different today. He wasn't as aggressive as usual and his breath didn't have that smell. Now that I think about it, my mother was behaving differently as well.

They were both sober today...

It's been a while since I'd seen them sober – so long I had even forgotten how they act and how to speak to them to make sure I would be safe. Coming out of my thoughts, I remained with my eyes fixed to the floor. Looking him in his eyes while he spoke would undoubtedly be a reason for him to get physical.

"Why'd you put your shirt back on? You got shy?" he belittled me.  I said nothing. He walked to the couch and sat down, gesturing for me to come over to him which I did obediently like a dog. I sat on the same couch as him, shuffling away so as to create as much distance as possible. This was highly awkward and I didn't know what to even say to him. Or if I should talk to him at all.

I despised this man yet here we were; sitting on a couch together like old friends.

_What do you even say to someone so wicked?_

He spared me the mission of having to look for something to say by speaking first. "Listen, I know what you been doing here, boy," he said, lowering his voice, "And I want in."

 _'Want in'_?

"In on what?" I had to ask, my brows furrowed in heavy confusion. "Your little Spanish girlfriend," he said obviously, shrugging and pulling a battered box of cigarettes out of his back pocket. My eyes widened. So that's what they thought our relationship was? A boy toy and sugar mama having sex in the house while my parents were away?!

_That was ridiculous!_

I would never... I mean, not that there's anything wrong with her... Actually, I doubt she even had any flaws. She was perfect; a true goddess. But... sleeping with her?! I have never thought of Ms Garcia like that! I don't believe I've ever thought of anyone like that before!

I guess I could identify as being asexual...

My father pulled a cigarette from his box, taking another one out and offering it to me. I took it, afraid to refuse anything from him. I have smoked before; only stolen cigarettes from my mother's pack. At first, it was just to see what they enjoyed so much about it and afterwards it was just to satisfy my own need.

"You smoke now? Is that what your Senõrita is teaching you?" he grumbled the moment I took it from him. "No! She doesn't even smoke!" I quickly defended her without thinking first. Only when the words had already left my mouth, had I realized that I had not only talked back to my father but I had even raised my voice at him too.

He stared me down with a hard expression and I shrunk away meekly. This was it. It was over for me.

He swiftly reached out a hard towards me and I instantly flinched, bringing a hand up in front of my face to block his strikes... But surprisingly, he never hit me. After a moment of staying in that position, I broke out and peered at him only to find him holding out a lighter.

I slowly relaxed and lit my cigarette with shaky hands, still watching him for fear that he might strike while I'm in a state of mild relaxation. I slowly passed the lighter back to him and watched him light his own and set the lighter down on the table.

"When did you start smoking?" he grunted as soon as I took a drag from the cigarette.

I panicked.

"I -- M-Months! I mean -- Maybe a few months ago... I'm sorry..." I rushed out. I took the cigarette and leaned forward to crush it out and return what was left to him. I didn't know that accepting it would be a problem and I really didn't want them to dislike Ms Garcia by thinking she had gotten me into this habit like he had first said.

As I was about to crush it out, my father pulled the ashtray away. "No, no. Smoke. You smoke now, don't you? So just smoke."

I stared at him for a while and after determining that this was not some kind of set-up, I sat back again and took another drag. He pushed the ashtray back in its place between us and did the same.

"So... Your mother's going out of town for the weekend to visit her family," he started, leaning back in his seat and smirking to himself, "Why don't you invite your Spanish girlfriend over?"

It was something about the way he said that and how he smirked that made me feel highly uncomfortable. I knew he didn't just want her to come here for me. Just the way that he said that sounded so... provocative and eerie. Did he want to... have sex with Ms Garcia?!

 _'No, Mason. That's preposterous!'_ I tried to convince myself. I mean, he was married to my mother and surely Ms Garcia has a boyfriend of some sort or even a husband. It can't be possible to be that gorgeous and generous and still be willingly single... right?

"I -- No -- it's fine. I can just go over there and see her..." I protest. I'm not comfortable having Ms Garcia in the same house as my father and quite frankly, the manner in which he suggested it made me speculate that maybe his intentions with her were not so innocent...

My thoughts were confirmed when I saw the familiar fury in his eyes at my refusal. Within seconds, he was in my face, glaring at me with his lit cigarette right next to my face. My heart filled with fear. There was no doubt in my mind that he would burn and scar me with it without a second glance so I had good reason to be afraid.

"Oh, you don't want to share with your old man, huh?" he grunted angrily.

That question made me sick to my stomach.

'Share'?

Ms Garcia wasn't just a piece of meat that could be thrown around! She wasn't just an insignificant ball; passed between father and son in a park during a game of catch.

No!

She was a beautiful, beautiful human being.

Not a bloody sex toy!

I was furious at what he was asking of me. How dare he speak about Ms Garcia as if she was some sort of prostitute?! On top of that, he was still married to my mother! Yet here he was, plotting to sleep with another woman behind her back while she was away seeing family. Disgusting.

"You're such a piece of shit," I gritted out in pure hatred.

I wanted to think it.

Lord knows, I just wanted to think it.

But somehow the words had found their way out of my mouth. As soon as I had said it, I regretted it. My eyes grew wide and I watched him to gauge his reaction. He kept an eerily neutral face and the longer he just stared at me silently, the more afraid I became of what was to come.

Finally his hand raised, slowly wrapping itself around my neck. He kept the same blank face as his grip on me tightened, restricting my airflow to the point where my right hand had instinctively come up to his in a futile attempt to pry it away. He leaned in to my ear, and I guessed it was because he didn't want to risk my mother overhearing what he was about to say.

"Listen..." he growled angrily, "You will bring your Latina here this weekend... And I will fuck her. Hell, maybe if you behave, we can fuck her together."

He stopped speaking to laugh in my ear. A dirty, evil laugh that held a sick joy to it. I was livid. No words could describe the amount of hatred and disgust I felt for my father at that moment. But the fear overcame the fury and I could not find it in me to protest.

"B-But... mom?" was all I could say.

He scoffed. "Don't tell me about that saggy bitch. No. I've had enough of that. I want something new... something fresh. I want what you have, Mason. Bring me your Spanish girlfriend," he whispered, staring into space as if fantasizing about having his way with Ms Garcia.

He took an absent-minded drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke right in my face with a slight smirk.

"Don't tell your mother," he laughed.

I watched him as he stood up straight and turned to walk away. He only took two steps away before turning back and approaching me again. "Oh, and this is for the 'piece of shit' thing," he mumbled, crushing out his cigarette butt on the side of my neck. I screamed as he pressed and twisted it into my flesh.

When he let go and walked off, it was still hanging from my flesh connected to the burnt skin of my sensitive neck. I pulled it out and threw it aside, clutching the side of my neck in agony.

This just proved to me that not only should I watch my mouth with him but also that Ms Garcia would not be safe if I really brought her here to him. He was a psychopath and I refused to let him get close to her.

What if she didn't want to sleep with him?

What if he got aggressive and she spoke back to him or even hit him? Was he capable of doing the same thing to her that he does to me? Burning her... beating her...

I can't allow it.

But I will allow it...

Why?

Because truth is I'm scared... I'm fucking terrified of what would happen if I refused him.

So I'm sorry, Ms Garcia.

This just... it needs to be done...

======

It was only in the morning that I realized just how much Ms Garcia really cared for me and wanted to help. It was a cold Thursday morning when _he_ came; bright and early. The overcast weather and chilly breeze dramatized his arrival -- making it appear as though he just blew in with the wind.

He knocked on the door.

Our heads lifted.

My parents shared confused glances with each other, pausing their breakfast to stare at the door. Slowly, my father rose from his seat and approached it. It wasn't even 8am yet so who would be visiting us at this time? Actually.... who would be visiting us **at all**?!

I had no friends...

My parents had no friends... well, at least none that I've heard of or met before.

Finally, my father grasped the handle. I watched anxiously from my spot standing in the kitchen and noticed my mother doing the same from her seat at the table. Slowly, the door swung open but my father's back blocked my view of the person at the door. They spoke quietly and I noticed them briefly shake hands in a formal manner.

I shifted my weight onto my other foot patiently, my eyes glued to the door waiting to steal a glance at our 'visitor'. I was curious to know who they were and what they were doing here and briefly hoped it wasn't simply a stranger who was lost. My mother soon lost interest in watching the ordeal and turned her attention back to eating away at her breakfast.

I was relieved when my father stepped back and aside, pulling the door open for them to enter. "Are you making my fucking tea or not, you cunt?!" my mother suddenly scolded, causing me to jump in shock and scurry to keep making it. After filling the cup, I lifted my eyes again to find the stranger much closer.

It was a male.

He was already in the house now and slowly approaching me with my father leading the way.

I'm not going to lie, he was a strikingly handsome man. I paused with my mother's cup of tea still in my hand and took a moment to take his appearance in. He looked like those men you see in Hollywood movies; strong, chiseled jaw... beautifully styled dark hair and plump pink lips.

I openly stared at him, taken aback by how attractive he was. He was dressed impressively in a tight fitting suit that hugged his muscular body snugly and held a stern expression on his face. In fact, he looked to be a perfect contrast of my dad.

I looked between the two when they came to a halt beside each other in front of us. He was a bit taller than my father and held this gentle aura around him despite his neutral expression. My father held a much more dangerous and eerie aura that made you uncomfortable.

The stranger looked flawless with his nicely styled, healthy-looking hair and clean-shaven face while my father just looked scruffy standing there next to him in his work clothes. The alcoholism and chainsmoking was painfully visible on my father's face while the stranger still had youthful features.

Yep.

A total contrast.

The stranger -- who had been previously staring at my mother -- lifted his gaze to me. Our eyes met and my heart fluttered, causing me to almost drop the cup of tea I forgot I was holding. I blamed that feeling on the fact that I hadn't really met any new people in a good few years so it was just my anxiety. It had to be.

His eyes softened when they met mine and I stared into his beautiful hazel eyes wordlessly. My father cleared his throat in preparation to speak and I turned to him. I studied him. Something was off about him now...

He was standing up straighter, speaking softer and he was actually being civil. Was it this stranger that was making him this way? Did he feel intimidatamed by him somehow?

"Honey," my father called my mom. My eyes moved to him. 'Honey'? He hasn't called my mother that in years! In fact... the last thing I heard him call her was a saggy bitch! Why was he pretending to be a loving couple in front of this man? I turned my attention back to him when he started speaking again.

"This is Mr. Harrison..."

My heart stopped.

My breath caught in my throat.

I recall a Mr Harrison... the man that Mrs Garcia told me about... the one who would help me...

The social worker.

I panicked.

What if they thought that I called him on my own? No, no, no! My parents were gonna kick my ass for this one... how could Ms Garcia do this?! Why would she really call this man to come here??! I'm in soo much shit when he goes; I just know it!

He asked to speak to my parents.

They all spoke in the living room while I sat in the kitchen stressing the whole time. Mr Harrison said that I could come listen to the conversation but I chose to remain in a separate location. I really didn't want to be around my parents right now, especially since they haven't yet had an opportunity to react to this social worker shenanigans.

I needed to prepare myself for their reactions and what I was even going to say.

Suddenly, the handsome social worker was standing before me. "Hi, Mason," he smiled gently and it reminded me a bit of Ms Garcia. I looked behind him to see my parents fidgeting on the couch. "Hello," I greeted, staring up at him from my seat. "I want to speak to you alone now. Is that okay with you?" he asked with a soft expression.

"I... um, y-yes. It's fine," I muttered, staring at the seat next to me waiting for him to sit and speak. He glanced at it before turning to my father who was approaching us. Mr Harrison shook his head. "No, I want to speak to you somewhere more private. You have a bedroom, right? Would you mind if I spoke to you in there? I would really like for nobody else to overhear our conversation, don't you?"

I stared at him before glancing at my parents. My mother had begun to trail behind my father, coming to us. There was obviously no privacy here. "I... yes... we can talk in my room... but... um, it's locked. My parents--"

"Keep the keys for him!" my father interrupted, quickly handing over his car keys that had my room key on the chain. It was a lie. He knows the real reason he has that key and I don't. "You see, my son is very forgetful, Mr Harrison. So he leaves his room key with me. Isn't that right, Mace?" my father lied through his teeth, smiling in a false show of happiness.

I cringed at the foreign nickname. Who the hell is 'Mace'? Since when was that my nickname?! My father was obviously trying too hard to impress Mr Harrison. He even tries to throw an arm around my shoulder which I step away from instinctively. Mr Harrison notices. He watches the space between us and my father's hand dangle in the air awkwardly before he retracted it.

After examining the action, he lifts his eyes back to mine. "Shall we then?" he asked, gesturing out of the kitchen. I caught on, walking out and leading the way to my room. He followed closely behind and suddenly stopped. "Excuse me, Mr Hopkins... I just want to speak to Mason?" the social worker spoke, turning to face my father who I didn't notice was following us as well.

"Oh, I'm not going to say anything. I just wanna watch, is all," my father laughed awkwardly, still proceeding. Mr. Harrison stood in his way, completely blocking him from walking any further. "No. I spoke to you. Now I wish to speak to Mason alone. No offence, Mr Hopkins, but we really don't need your presence nor do we desire it," he checked him.

My father stood completely humbled after Mr Harrison put him in his place, not saying anything further. He sighed, turning and walking back to where he came from. I knew he only wanted to be present to intimidate me into answering in a way that wouldn't anger him, which meant lying about being abused at home to Mr Harrison.

I unlocked the door, letting him inside. I followed him in and closed the door. I was about to lock it when he stopped me. "Please don't," he said softly, reaching out a hand to the door slightly. I frowned, leaving it unlocked. "Why not?" I asked curiously. "I find it very unprofessional. I mean... it could raise questions of what I'm doing to you with the doors locked. I'd... much rather avoid all of that."

I blushed heavily, staring into his eyes. Would they... Would my parents really think he was molesting me if I looked the door? Then again, my parents thought I was sleeping with Ms Garcia just because she was in the house when I was alone. So the idea wasn't really far-fetched...

"I -- uh... You mean... sex?" I whispered, blushing bright red. His lips curved up at the corners in an amused smile. He opened his mouth to speak but lets out a laugh. "Yes, I mean sex, Mason," he chuckled. "Oh..." I muttered stupidly, still blushing at the thought. Why was this so embarrassing? I thought I was mature enough to speak about these things!

"So why don't we start talking now, hmm?" he suggesting, throwing himself on my bed with a relieved noise. I watched him change into a different person. Just a few minutes ago, he was strict and intimidating with my parents and now he was smiling a lot and currently laying flat on my bed in relaxation.

"Where do I sit?" I asked, trying to find an unoccupied space on my bed but there seemed to be nothing with this huge man laying on it with his eyes closed. "I don't know, man. Thats your thing," he mumbled, still not opening his eyes. I watched him in shock. I mean, I only knew him for a while but I knew this was highly out of character. The sudden change was still puzzling me.

He was so... different.

Initially, he presented himself as a person of authority -- hell, even my parents were scared of him -- and now he's just like... almost like an annoying best friend. But not real annoying; just the cute and funny type of annoying. I watched him lay there, completely perplexed that someone can change so suddenly right before my eyes.

Finding a small spot by his feet, I sat down. He finally opened only one eye to look at me. "Are you sitting? Good! So we can talk now!" he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Shit, where's that damn notebook?" he muttered to himself, taking his bag from beside him and digging in it. Finally, he pulled a notebook I noticed him using earlier with my parents.

He scrunched his brows cutely, flipping through the pages and making the irritating flip noise on purpose with every page he turned. "Hopkins... Hop-kins... Hopk-- Oh! There you are!" he said triumphantly, pulling out a pencil next. "Alright! Let's do this... State your full name."

He lifted his eyes to meet mine and I felt my breath catch again at how unexpectedly he did that. "Mason Hopkins," I answered breathlessly. He repeated it softly as he quickly jotted it down. "Alright. Age, Gender, Grade?" he asked. "15. Male. Um... I'm in... um... I don't..."

He paused, turning to me. "Your mother said you're being home-schooled. That's a bunch of shit, isn't it?" he asked casually. I stared wordlessly. He knew? Or was this his way of confirming? Do I tell the truth or...?

"Please don't lie to me, Mason," he added as if he was inside my head.

"I... y-yes... it is. I don't go to school," I said meekly. Immediately, I flinched expecting some sort of reaction; a slap or a punch. I mean, I said something that I wasn't supposed to... doesn't that mean I deserve to be hit? But... Who was going to hit me when I was alone in this room with Mr Harrison? Would Mr Harrison hit me?

I slowly opened my eyes which I didn't know I had closed.

He was watching me.

He didn't look like he would strike me... in fact... I didn't even expect him to. He looked harmless; caring. Actually... fearing him would be like fearing Mrs Garcia! I didn't know him that well but... He looked like he'd never hurt me.

Somehow... he made me feel safe.

I watched him watch me.

He was still seated comfortably cross-legged on my bed. His brows were furrowed -- he must have seen me flinch. He looked confused; curious. He watched me with big doe eyes and his pencil hung from his lips like a crazily cute anime. I remember thinking: 'How does someone manage to be cute with a bloody pencil hanging from their lips?!'

Apparently, he could do it.

"Are you afraid of me, Mason?" he asked smoothly, his deep voice cascading softly into my ears. "No," I answered truthfully, not even hesitating. "That's great. You don't need to be scared, hm? We're friends now, right?" he smiled brightly, showing his perfect white teeth. Friends? I... I have a friend?

"We're friends?" I asked unsurely.

"Yeah! Sure! Well... do you want to be my friend?" he asked excitedly.

Someone was excited to be friends with me...

It just felt so... surreal.

God! The last time I had a friend was back when i was still in school.

"Yes!" I answered a bit too eagerly before frowning sadly, "I... but I'm nervous. What if I'm not a good friend? This is scary..."

He laughed, gently patting my thigh for a second. "Oh, c'mon! I'm sure you'll be a great friend, Mason. And I should probably tell you my name now since friends don't call other friends by their last names. Could you imagine if I called you Mr Hopkins?? Geez..."

I laughed at that, nodding in agreement.

We locked eyes and he smiled, briefly licking his lips before speaking.

"My name is Skye."

I remember being mesmerized by his name; even by the way he said it. _Skye_... what a beautiful name. I needed to tell him that...

Sure enough, I said it.

"That's a beautiful name," I whispered.

He smiled softly. "You like it? Thank you. I like 'Mason' too."

"It's really nothing special," I blushed, rubbing my arm and looking down at it. "Yeah well, I really like it," he beamed, "So... let's keep talking now."

I nodded, watching him take the notebook again. "Mason, do you know why I'm here?" he asked, frowning slightly. I was taken by surprise by the sudden level of seriousness in his voice. "Um... y-yes..." I answered meekly. "Why am I here?" he asked softly. "Ms Garcia called you..." I said. "That's true. Do you know why Mrs Garcia called me?" he asked. I hesitated.

"Y-Yes..."

"Why did she call me?"

"B-Because, um... she... thinks m-my parents... hit me."

"Is it true?" he whispered, leaning in close enough for me to smell his intoxicating perfume. I hesitated.

"...No."

"I hope you're not being dishonest with me, Mason. I can't help you if you lie to me."

I hung onto every word he said.

Did I really need help?

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't need to be living like this. I could go somewhere else... somewhere better? I could be in another neighbourhood; hell maybe even another state! With a picture perfect family who actually wants me. I could be... happy.

I could be loved...

But I can't betray my parents like this...

Maybe it was the fear --- fear of their reactions or the fear of having to leave my life behind and start afresh...

But I can't do this; I just can't!

"I-I... I don't need help, Skye. I'm fine, please. My parents don't abuse me... I'm alright."

His expression crumbled. He looked... disappointed? Like he had been relying on me to give him something to work with and I just shut him down. He obviously didn't believe me; he saw right through my lies. Mr Harrison stayed a while longer, asking more questions that I denied.

He left when my parents left for work.

My mother lingered a bit longer behind the two men, digging in her purse for something. I watched my new friend fade from view. I felt bad for lying to him today. I felt so guilty. We were supposed to be friends and I was deceiving him? Did that make me a bad friend?

I was excited to see him again!

Before he left he said to my parents: "It was nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Hopkins, but truthfully I was not convinced by what I saw today. I'll be back to conduct a proper investigation to determine whether or not this household is fit for a child and whether or not the two of you are worthy of custody of Mason Hopkins."

"When are you coming back?" my father asked.

"Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week or even next month. It's a surprise visit, Mr Hopkins, I'm obviously not going to tell you," he responded sharply and with that, he turned and walked off.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a tight vice grip on my wrist.

"A social worker? Are you fucking kidding me?! You ungrateful piece of shit! This is what you do?! Your father and I will deal with you when we get back! You'll fucking see! You'll see!" my mother ranted furiously, still squeezing me in anger. She kept her voice down during her rant as though she was still afraid of Mr Harrison.

I froze, watching my mother storm off.

I knew I'd get into trouble for this.

I **knew** it!

WHY DID MRS GARCIA HAVE TO DO THIS?!


	3. Saint Amongst Sinners

_"Who said one man can't change the world?  
You changed mine.  
You blew in like a fiery tornado and turned my whole world upside down._

**_You became my world._ **

_'One man can't change the world,' they said.  
Whoever said that has obviously never met you...  
'Nobody's perfect,' they said.  
Whoever said that has yet to lay eyes upon you..."_

 

_\- Mason Gray_

 

\------

 

The day dragged on as I dreaded 5pm when my parents would come back home. I worked extra hard to ensure the house was spotless in an attempt to lessen my punishment. Maybe they would be happy I did a good job at keeping the house clean that they would go easy on me about the social worker thing...

Who am I kidding?

They never appreciated anything I did for them.

They never even noticed any hard work I put into maintaining this household.

They never cared.

I found myself climbing the stairs of the attic. I reached the top, patting the dusty surface of the dark attic in search of something. I finally found it, grasping my notebook and beginning to descend the stairs. I kept this notebook to write down all the big things that occurred in my life; I guess you could say it was sort of my diary.

Having no friends to talk to was often difficult so I'd write down what I was thinking and feeling in order to achieve some sort of relief; as though I was confiding in a trusted friend. I couldn't tell all of this to Ms Garcia so the next best thing would be to confide in someone else -- something else... my notebook.

I couldn't tell Ms Garcia about the abuse but my notebook knew all about it. It knew about all of it but never once did it jeopardize my safety by calling on a social worker to visit the house. Not that I regret meeting Skye...

It was sort of a bittersweet moment. I knew I would be in trouble for this but at the same time I had made a new friend today whom I felt I really enjoyed spending time with -- even if we did only spend a few minutes together. I would have never met him if Mrs Garcia hadn't called him to the house so in a way I was grateful for her actions. I couldn't really be that mad about it.

I sat on the floor, busying myself by venting through the notebook. I told it everything from the moment I met Skye Harrison right to what my mother had said as he was leaving.

_Skye Harrison..._

I stared off into space as I thought about him. I had never really liked the thought of social workers but now that I had met Mr Harrison, I realized that they weren't really so bad.

In fact, I actually liked him...

A knock on the door disturbed my thoughts and I walked towards it. Somehow, a part of me was hoping it was Mr Harrison again back here to see me but when I pulled the door open, I was mildly disappointed to see it was just Ms Garcia. I smiled nonetheless. "Hi, Mrs Garcia," I greeted politely.

She smiled widely, bringing me into a hug. I melted in her embrace, her warm arms holding me tight yet gentle and my face buried in her soft bosom. I slowly brought my own arms around her waist, bringing her closer to me as well. I breathed her in. God, when last had someone hugged me so passionately? I lost myself in the scent of her sweet perfume and before I knew it she was pulling away already. It was over.

I wanted to ask her to hold me again so badly but I contained myself, letting her into the house casually. She stopped and picked up a small container that was lying beside her feet, bringing it in with her. Honestly, I felt a bit anxious about letting her in here after what had happened but I doubted there was any way I could stay away from Ms Garcia.

She was good for my sanity.

I don't think I'd ever tell her this but she fed my soul... I was surely incapable of going on with my life without her in it -- I knew that for a fact. Which is why I still let her in even after I got into trouble for doing so. I don't care what my parents thought. I needed her.

"Thank you for the tamales, Ms Garcia. They were delicious," I said honestly, returning the empty container to her that I had already washed before she came here. She beamed. "Really? Oh, thank you, sweetie. You can just tell me anytime you want me to make them again; I'll do it for you!" she grinned brightly, setting the small lunchbox she came with on the table and taking the tamale container from me.

She put that on the coffee table as well before sitting down on the couch. "Come here, honey," she said softly, patting the spot next to her. I came obediently, taking the seat right next to her. She reached out an arm and I sunk into her embrace like a child retreating to his mother, letting my head rest on her breasts.

Ms Garcia wrapped her arm around me, rubbing my back, and brought the other one up to my hair. "Are you okay?" she whispered, gently massaging my scalp with her manicured nails. "I'm fine..." I said back equally softly, sinking into her touch.

"Did Mr Harrison come to the house yet? He promised me he'd come here as soon as possible..."

I nodded against her, slowly bringing my hand to wrap around her slim waist and bring her closer to me. "He came in the morning... before my parents went to work," I muttered, closing my arms so nothing would distract me from this beautiful moment of peace with her. I felt her nod her head before placing a gentle kiss on my head.

"I hope you told him everything...?"

I said nothing. My body froze and my eyes opened at her statement. Should I lie and say that I did? I mean, I'm sure she'd never even know...

I'm sure social workers had some kind of confidentiality law that prevented him from discussing what happened at my home and what was said so Ms Garcia would never even know if I was telling her the truth...

But something about the way she said it and her motherly tone that made me feel afraid to lie to her. It just felt like if I did, she would know. Or she would be angry with me when she found out. I didn't want her to be angry with me...

"...no," I let out under my breath, barely even loud enough to be audible.

But she heard it.

She stopped caressing my hair and pulled her hand back. I didn't have to look up to know that she was staring at me. And I felt horrible.

"Mason!" she chided.

My grip on her tightened and I buried my face in her lap, too ashamed to even face her. She wasn't even holding me anymore! I was such an idiot! Now she didn't like me anymore! WHY?! Why didn't I just tell Skye the truth?! Why did I have to be so fucking scared of everything all the time! I'm so stupid! My parents were right... I'm just as useless as they say I am!

I don't know when it happened but soon my eyes were blurry and tears were streaming down my face. I've never cried in front of Mrs Garcia before. I tried to stop it. Nothing worked. The more I tried to wipe them away, the more they fell; so rapidly that I was beginning to soak her jeans. She felt it, quickly placing a small hand on my back.

"Mason?" she asked carefully.

I opened my mouth in an attempt to assure her I was fine, but it just came out as a pathetic sob as more tears came rushing down my face. I heard her gasp and she hurried to quickly gather me in her arms. "Mason? Please, no, honey... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have never raised my voice at you like that. I-I'm so sorry, sweetie, please..." she said frantically, squeezing me tightly in her arms.

I took a deep breath, shocked by the fact that me crying seemed to affect her so much. It never affected my own parents. They'd still hit me -- even with tears in my eyes.

Feeling her try to lift my face, I obliged; allowing her to do so. Her brows were wrinkled with worry, the creases forming on her forehead clearly showing her stress at the situation. "Baby, please..." she whispered, grasping my face and wiping my tears with her thumbs, "I'm so sorry."

Funny thing was she didn't even yell at me.

She was just too sweet.

Too innocent.

I looked at her. She looked torn apart. The guilt she felt inside was being clearly portrayed through her pained chocolate eyes. "It's okay," I reassured her, sniffing and attempting to pull myself together. I had just lost it right in front of Ms Garcia. How embarrassing! I wondered what she must think of me now; falling apart right before her eyes. I doubt she'd judge me though.

She was crumbling herself.

I watched tears gather in her eyes and jumped to console her, forgetting about my own mental breakdown. "It's really okay, Ms Garcia, please don't cry," I rushed out, watching her attempt to blink her tears away. "Who's crying? I'm not crying. What are you talking about? You need to get some glasses, Mason, you're beginning to see things," she said in feigned offense, fanning her eyes and turning her gaze to the ceiling.

Letting out a light laugh, I helped fan her eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure I saw tears," I teased. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you're just a DumDum and that's it," she teased back. She poked my nose before letting out another laugh.

She was trying to lighten the moment.

I played along, wiping my tears, sitting up and laughing with her. "Yeah, okay, maybe I am just a DumDum. Cause big, strong, sexy Ms Garcia can never cry. Oh God no, that's not possible," I said playfully, smirking at her. She sprouted an even wider smirk, nudging my arm with her elbow. "Oouuu. So you think I'm sexy?" she grinned sheepishly, still nudging me repeatedly.

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

"Ugh, get over yourself, Valeri," I sassed, even calling her by her real name. I stood up quickly, knowing she'd want to retaliate in some kind of way. Just as I expected, she pounced on me. I dodged just in time, causing her to almost fall flat on her face. "What did you just call me?!" she yelled incredulously, trying to grab me. I leaned away quickly, laughing at the thrill of having her miss me so slim I actually felt her fingers brush against my skin.

She tried to catch me again which I jumped away from and before I knew it she was off the couch, chasing after me and I was running away in the opposite direction. We circled the couch multiple times, laughing as we did so. I looked back to see how close she was, getting the shock of my life when I realized she stopped running that way and was instead coming from the front.

I was running straight to her!

I let out an embarrassing scream, quickly changing my direction and bolting away before she could grab me. I was too late. She had already caught up with me and before I knew it, this small little lady had tackled me to the ground. She then proceeded to attack me with tickles. I laughed hysterically against my will, feeling my eyes get a bit wet from laughing too much.

"Yeah! What did you say to me? Hm? You had so much attitude! Where's it now?" Ms Garcia gloated with a devious smirk, not ceasing her attack on my senses, "Valeri, huh? You called me Valeri! Call me Valeri again! Do it, Mason! Do it! I dare you!"

I tried to pry her hands away but it was futile 'cause she just found more places to tickle me. She straddled me, making sure there was no way to escape her. "I'm sorry! S-Sorry! Hah! Ms Garcia, please! Ahahaha -- I'm so sorry! I'll ne -- hahah -- I'll never do it again! Sto -- Stop it! I'm gonna pee!" I shouted between hysterical laughs, squirming under her touch and struggling to escape her grasp.

She burst out laughing, finally stopping her attack and rolling off of me. She laid down beside me on the floor, still laughing at her victory. "Ah, that was so much fun! I don't even remember the last time I ran like that!" she exclaimed between cute chuckles and heavy breaths. "Me too!" I admitted, still trying to catch my breath. She propped herself up on her elbow, facing me and hovering over my face.

"Really? _Chiquito_ , you're still young! You're supposed to be doing things like this all the time..." she empathized.

I frowned. She had a point. Now that I thought about it, I was never truly given a proper childhood. I guess there was always just something to do that I never had time to do the little things that kids my age were doing. I couldn't go to school, make friends, mess around, have sleepovers...

None of that.

"Yeah, well... I don't," I confessed solemnly, "...I can't."

I lifted my eyes to gaze up into hers. I saw an emotion I couldn't understand buried deep inside her seemingly shining chocolate eyes. Almost as if she... was yearning for something? Wanted something? Wishing for... something? I don't know. Her brows twisted with something akin to a mix of pity and longing.

"Oh, Mason... If you were my son..." she whispers solemnly, so subtle my ears almost didn't grasp her words. But I perceived. I gazed at her wordlessly, taken aback by her words and the obvious longing in her eyes as she stared at me. Someone wanted me...? I didn't know how to react to that. I found it hard to believe. My own parents didn't even want me...

But here was someone who did.

Someone who was actually longing for me; yearning to have me.

I didn't know what to say...

I stared at her. She stared back. Slowly, her expression crumbled, turning into a look of regret. "Sorry... I shouldn't have said that... I..." she fumbles, quickly sitting up and running a hand through her thick hair awkwardly, " _Oh Dios mío_... You must think I'm so weird now... I'm so sorry, Mason."

"..." I moved my lips to try to say something but nothing came out. I truly didn't know how to react. She rose to her feet, fixing her appearance and taking her empty tamale container from the table. "I-I have to go now, Mason. I brought you some tacos. They're in the lunch box I came with. I'll see you later, okay?" she rushed out with a quick smile before briskly walking out of the house.

"Wait! No! You don't have to go! Please stay!" I yelled frantically, reaching out a hand in her direction.

But it was too late.

She had already left the house.

 

She never heard me.

 

**======**

 

I spent the rest of the day just sitting in the lounge. Ms Garcia's words swarmed around my head and I struggled to push the thoughts away. She must have just been playing with me. There was no way that she would wish I was hers... If my own parents -- my own flesh and blood -- couldn't even want me... I'd be bloody foolish to believe that a stranger actually did.

She was joking.

She must be.

I sat by the TV on the floor, taking notes through my English program. The assigned homework at the end of the program was to write a narrative essay on the topic "What Is Happiness?". I felt the excitement boil inside of me. I loved writing more than anything in the world. I loved essays as well, especially since they brought out the creativity in me.

But what exactly **is** happiness?

Don't get me wrong, I loved a creative challenge... but that question was something that even I could not answer; much less write a 450-word essay about...

I didn't know happiness.

I'd never experienced it.

I don't know...

I'm surprised to hear the scratching of keys at the front door. My eyes shot wide open. I checked the time on the TV. 5:34PM.

Shit!

My parents were home!

I scrambled to get my notebook along with my English book. Quickly changing the channel and grabbing the container of tacos, I bolted to the first place I knew that would be convenient to hide everything. My room. I knew my parents wouldn't lock me out of it again because now they had Skye to fear. They'd let me have access to my room 'cause deep down inside -- although I'm sure they'd never admit it -- they were scared of Mr Harrison.

Quickly stashing everything under my bed, I exited the room to greet my parents. The fear from this morning came back and hit me like a sack of bricks. My heart pounded and I swallowed harshly. My parents came into view and I felt something flutter in my chest upon seeing them.

They both had a beer in their hands and my father set his down as soon as he walked in, leaving my mother to bring the rest of their beers in the house. We locked eyes and he was so furious I swear I could see the scorching fire in his eyes. He walked fast towards me.

"H-Hey, Da--"

Before I could even finish what I was saying, he grabbed me by my throat. I stumbled backwards under the influence of his powerful grab and he pushed me towards the wall. When we were close enough to it, he squeezed harder, lifting me and slamming me against the wall. I felt the air get knocked out of my lungs with the force of the blow and before I could even fill my lungs again, my airflow was constricted by the large hand wrapped around my neck.

"You fucking stupid cunt!" he snarled, his hot breath smacking me in the face. He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I tried to speak -- to apologize for everything -- but it just came out as a desperate wheeze for air. I heard my blood pumping in my ears. My father spoke more but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I watched his lips move, feeling like my lungs and heart were on fire.

I clawed desperately at his hands to try to get him to relieve some pressure. He didn't let go. I felt my scratches getting weaker and weaker as my body lost strength.

Just when I thought that he was going to suffocate me to death, a loud bang rang out in the room. My eyes widened when I saw my mother hit him upside the head with a frying pan. He fell to the ground at the same time that I slumped to the floor. "Dean!" she yelled at him, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"What the fuck is wrong with me?? What's wrong with you?!" he yelled back, clutching his head from the blow, "The fuck are you doing?!"

"Don't put your hands on him!" she shouted furiously.

I frowned deeply in heavy confusion. She was... defending me? Usually, she'd step in and beat me as well but now... she was stopping it? I looked at her. She must be drunk out of her mind. She was still pointing the pan at my father, ready to strike him again if he tried doing something. Maybe...

Just maybe she was starting to love me...

"YOU WANTED TO HIT HIM TOO!"

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, "But then I thought about it... That bloody social worker still isn't done with his fucking 'investigation'. We don't even know when he's coming back here! You really want to risk this shit?! I'm not going to jail just because you're too much of a fucking idiot to know when to control yourself!"

Ah. So that's why...

I almost laughed at how pathetic I was being. She didn't love me. She'd never _love_ me. She was simply just looking out for herself. That's all she ever did...

Nobody could ever love me.

My father just glared wordlessly. He got up, burning both of us with his eyes before storming off, purposely bumping my mother with his broad shoulder as he left. Now Dean Hopkins was no small man... So when he bumped her, she went flying backwards, catching herself before she hit the wall. My mother glared at his retreating back, clutching the pan like she wanted to hit him again. But she held back.

He muttered angrily as he marched off; something along the lines of 'stupid bitch'. I slowly stood up, massaging my neck that was still sore from being choked like that. My mother walked off into the kitchen, coming back a couple minutes later with a beer and an ice pack. She threw me the ice pack.

"Put that on your neck."

I caught it, looking up at her. Before I could even say thank you, she was gone. She joined my father at the table, drinking together despite their little altercation just seconds ago. An ice pack, huh? They were really afraid of what Mr Harrison could do to them...

They wouldn't touch me as long as he was still in the picture.

I felt a smile break out on my face.

They wouldn't touch me...

I was invincible.

And so I acted like it!

I had a new spring in my step when I was around them. The fear was totally gone. _"Wash the dishes"_? Um... No thank you. Wash them yourself. _"Sweep up that broken beer bottle"_? Who broke it? You did, right, Mom? So sweep it up your goddamn self, lady!

I felt like God.

Nobody could do anything to me.

Because they were too busy fearing Skye.

They tried different ways of disciplining me since they couldn't physically hit me. Guess what they did...? They told me that I couldn't eat dinner (food that I cooked, by the way) because of my attitude. They made me watch them eat it and snickered as they sent me to bed hungry.

 

Ha!

 

Joke's on them!

 

While they had rice and soup....

 

I had tacos.

 

**======**

 

I awoke the next morning feeling like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was pretty late in the day when I decided I wanted to get up. I had slept enough to make up for every single sleepless night I've ever had in my entire life. Taking my sweet time, I dragged my body out of bed. I went into the bathroom, doing my usual morning routine before slowly venturing out into the kitchen for a little snack.

I poured myself some juice and took an apple to munch on. Walking into the living room to watch TV, I nearly dropped my juice when I got the shock of my life.

My father was sitting on the couch facing me, a lit cigarette burning in his hand. I stared at him in complete confusion. Wasn't he working today? Or had I slept so much that he had gone to work and come back home. What's the time anyway?

"What are you doing here?" I asked in pure shock.

"It's my house," he snorted.

"Yeah, but..."

"Took the day off," he cut me off, taking a drag of his cigarette. He smirked widely, something lighting up in his eyes. I shifted awkwardly in my spot, feeling uneasy about the malicious glint in his eyes and his wide smirk. "It's Friday today..." he started, his free hand coming to rest on his crotch and pull at it subtly, "You know what that means..."

My eyes widened.

Shit!

I had completely forgotten about that!

"I saw her this morning... in her sexy blue shorts working in her garden... Mmm..." he groaned, speaking soft and slow with a distant look in his eyes, "The things I'd do to that woman's body..."

I watched him slowly lick his lips and fondle himself right in front of me. I felt repulsed. My stomach turned in disgust at his actions and behaviour. "Now that you're up... Mason, go get your Daddy's new toy."

I thought about telling him no. But my mother was out of town. It was just me and him. My mother has always been the smart one. She was cool, calm and collected. But my father... he was the hothead. He loved to act first and think later. Sometimes he wouldn't even think at all. So I had no doubt that if I denied him what he wanted, he wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of me.

And my mother wasn't even around to stop him.

That's how I ended up across the street on Ms Garcia's porch, knocking on her door. I took a moment to look around as I waited for her to answer. It's been a really long time since I've been outside, everything was a bit overwhelming. I looked back at my house, seeing my father obviously watching me from the living room window.

I jumped a bit when Ms Garcia pulled the door open when I wasn't expecting it. Her beautiful face twisted in confusion and shock. " _Chiquito_? You're here? I-I...?" she rambled, looking around and behind me, trying to make sense of the situation. I took the opportunity to look her over. Just as my father had said, she was wearing blue shorts.

Her thick thighs were showing and I could see why he was so sexually attracted to her. She had on a tight shirt that was tied at the side, exposing her flat stomach. Her outfit made her look younger. But then again I could never even tell Mrs Garcia's age by looking at her. She looked really young but I knew she was a bit older because of all the stories she'd tell me.

But in this outfit, she looked like she was young enough to be my girlfriend!

She was wearing a sun hat and I assumed it was because she was outside earlier working with her garden like my father had mentioned. My father... right. I had to get her over there.

"Yeah, um... I need to talk to you..." I said reluctantly.

_Was I really doing this to her?_

"Oh! Um... I'm sorry, this is just a bit weird... I've never seen you outside your house!" she exclaimed, laughing a bit in astonishment, "Wow! And you've never come here before... I guess I just don't know how to... Come in! Let's talk."

"Uh, actually... could you come to my house? I-I have something on the stove and I don't want it to burn..." I quickly thought of a lie. I'm sure she could hear the nervousness in my voice by the expression on her face. "Honey? What's wrong? You sound scared? What is it?" she asked in pure concern.

I thought of telling her everything at that moment; that my father had put me up to this to trap her. I thought of coming clean to her...

"Nothing's wrong," I lied.

"...Alright. If you say so," she hesitated, obviously not believing me 100%, "Let's go."

She slipped into her shoes and walked out. My eyes instinctively dropped when she passed me. I couldn't help but notice how big her butt was. Not in a sexual way! No! Just in a 'oh, that's a really nice ass' kind of way. That didn't mean I wanted-- you know what, let me just be quiet now 'cause this is getting weirder the more I talk about it.

I followed behind her. I tore my eyes off her plump ass when she took a hold of my hand. I frowned slightly at our entwined hands. "I'm scared to cross the road," she admitted sheepishly. "How did you cross it all those times you came to see me?" I wondered. "I ran. It's less scary when you run," she blushed, "But I don't want to run right now 'cause you'll look at me funny."

I couldn't help but burst out laughing at her. A grown woman scared to cross the road? Unbelievable! I tried to control my laughter and opened my eyes, immediately seeing my father still watching from the window. My laughter quickly cut off as I was reminded of the reality of this situation. I didn't come here to laugh with her. I didn't come to discuss how she's scared to cross roads or catch up with her.

I came here with a purpose.

"Come on, let's go," Ms Garcia said after a silver car cruised by.

Everything seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Each step she took made my heart race faster. She tugged at my hand and I edged forward. I watched her back. Her hair swaying in the wind. I watched her walk. That slight bounce in her step. So naïve. She didn't even know what she was frolicking towards. I watched my father. She didn't notice him there. But I did. I could even see that perverted glint in his eyes.

I closed my eyes and for a second I swear I could hear her voice in my head... All the conversations we had... I could see her beautiful smile... I could feel her warmth all over me alongside that tingly feeling I got inside whenever she held me... I could feel her everywhere... I could feel all her love...

_"Oh, Mason... If you were my son..."_

"STOP!" I yelled, grabbing her hand tighter and preventing her from walking any further.

She turned back with heavy confusion. "What's wrong, baby?" she frowned. We were standing right in the middle of the road with equal lengths between my house and hers. "You can't go to my house!" I shouted, breaking down. I was so emotional. She looked completely taken aback by it. " _Pero_... you said we sh--"

"Forget about what I said! Please! You can't go in there!" I cried, "I won't let you! I... I can't let anything happen to you! Please listen to me! I love you so much! Don't go there!"

**"MASON!"**

My head snapped in the direction of my name. My father was now standing right outside the house. He looked furious. His nostrils were flaring and both his fists were balled; ready for conflict. "Your father is home?" Ms Garcia said in surprise. I didn't answer, frozen in place on the road. I looked at his right fist when something shiny reflected the sunlight in a bright gleam.

Knuckle dusters.

He started marching towards us.

"Run!" I shouted, grabbing and pulling Ms Garcia by her small hands. "What's happening?!" she yelled frantically. We both looked back to see where he was and she screamed when she saw he was so close behind us. "YOU BITCH!" he shouted. I pushed Mrs Garcia to run in front of me. At least if he caught up, he'd catch me first and she'd be safe.

He can beat me from sunrise to sunset.

But he should never touch her.

I won't let him!

Surprisingly we made it into her house safely without being caught by him. She slammed the door shut while he was on the porch and locked it. He banged on it a bit. Ms Garcia ran through the whole house, shutting all of the windows. I stared at my father -- when he had stopped his persistent banging -- through the small glass decorations in the wall beside the front door.

He looked me dead in my eyes with a malice I've never seen before.

It was as if the devil had risen within him.

He looked just about ready to kill me with his bare hands.

 

Maybe I had made a mistake...?

 

I'd do it all over again.

 

Nobody messes with my Valeri.

 

Fuck that.


	4. Abluent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in a really long time. I guess I just lacked initiative since the response from the readers wasn't as great as I would have liked it to be...  
> But then I realized that I was doing this for me. It's not about being praised. It's just about writing a damn good story! ;)  
> That's the real reason I do this anyway. Not for kudos...
> 
> So yeah. :)
> 
> But sorry anyway..

_"It's you.  
It has always been you.  
You were the love I had been searching for my entire life.  
Even when I didn't know that I was searching...  
It was you.  
Even when I hadn't even met you...  
It has always been you."_

_\- Mason Gray_

\------

 

I sat on Ms Garcia's couch, feeling like complete and utter shit. She was on a phone call, frantically speaking Spanish to the person on the other end of the line. She paced as she spoke, running her fingers through her hair multiple times. I felt bad for getting her in this situation. But I didn't know how I would've prevented it. I should've done something. I should've been smarter...

She hung up on the call, walking back over to me and I felt my heart speed up. My father had left the house a few minutes ago but not without cussing us out through the door and threatening to come back and kill us. It wasn't the first time he had threatened to end my life. But it was the most serious one. Something about his tone told me this was not just an empty threat to be taken lightly.

"Maybe we should call the cops?" I suggested. Honestly, I was scared for my life. I was even more scared for Ms Garcia's. She sat beside me, putting her head in her hands. "No. We can't. He hasn't physically done anything to us yet so I don't think they'll take action. They probably won't even take us seriously!" she said, the stress evident in her accented voice.

We sat in a heavy silence for a brief second that felt like an eternity before she lifted her head and turned to me. "Stop blaming yourself, Mason," she said as if she could hear my thoughts, "There was nothing you could've done, honey. That man is evil. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Still... I could've said no..." I muttered.

"No to what?" she frowned, "You never told me what exactly happened...?

I sighed. I had been dreading this moment; when I'd have to tell her that I had betrayed her by being part of the set-up. "My father, he..." I took a deep breath, "He told me to bring you to my house. I didn't want to! I swear!"

"He told you to do that? Why?!"

"He wanted... he wanted to sleep with you."

Her eyes grew wide and filled with emotion in an instant. It was so overwhelming that I struggled to maintain eye contact with her. I'm sure I had lost her trust. How could she ever trust me again after I was so willing to lead her to her doom? She'd never want to see me again. She'd kick me out and--

"So he sent you here to come get me? So he could have his way with me...?"

"...Y-Yes. I'm so sorry! I didn't want to do it, I promise! It's just... he... I was so scared..." my words piled in my throat. I felt my eyes get damp and tried to blink away the oncoming tears. It was hard to breathe and I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat. To my surprise, I felt arms slowly surround me. Her head rested on my shoulder.

"It's okay, _Mijo_. I understand that you were afraid. I'm not mad, honey. You did what you felt was the only thing you could do in that situation and I forgive you," she said softly, hugging me gently.

"R-Really?" I asked in shock.

She lifted her head to smile at me. " _Sí_. It's fine, Mason. It's not your fault my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard," she smirked widely. There it was again. She was doing it again. During every serious moment she would find a way to turn it into a laughing matter. Maybe this was her way of coping with things; by making it all a big joke and laughing about it.

Lightening the mood so the darkness of reality couldn't consume you...

Nonetheless, I chuckled along with her. I couldn't jeopardize her coping mechanism. I don't know what I would ever do if someone destroyed my coping mechanism; writing. If I couldn't write to regain control of my thoughts and emotions, I would be a mess. Maybe if Ms Garcia couldn't laugh about a situation, she would be an emotional mess as well.

I didn't want that to happen.

"If that's the kind of 'boys' you're attempting to attract, Ms Garcia, I feel really bad for you..." I joked.

She burst into a round of fresh laughter, hitting my knee as she erupted loudly. I couldn't help but to laugh along with her. Our laughter was immediately cut off by a loud sound at the front door. We stood quickly and she grasped my hand tightly. Silently, we rushed to the door to see what was happening.

As soon as the front door came into view, it flew open.

We both jumped back when it burst wide open, seeing a big burly man make his way in. I paled. My heart lurched with fear as his muscular figure charged into the house. I wanted to run but my feet were frozen in place. The first thing he did was grab Ms Garcia. I felt panic. He hoisted her up in an extremely firm hold before dropping her to the ground but still keeping a hold on her.

I thought about hitting him while he wasn't paying attention but my body stood frozen. I was completely shocked by what he had done next...

He grabbed her face and kissed her.

He kissed her!

And that wasn't the most surprising part of it all...

She kissed him back.

I watched in complete confusion. Ms Garcia wrapped her arms around his slim waist, placing her hands on his strong back. What the fucking hell was going on here?! They pulled away and I stared for some sort of indication that would provide a better understanding for me...

"Baby... are you okay?" he whispered.

'Baby'?

He leaned his forehead against hers intimately and held her face between his big palms.

Who the hell was this man?!

"Yeah! I'm okay, _mi amor_. He didn't touch me..." Ms Garcia replied quickly, clearly talking about my father. Just then some other men walked into the house -- a big group -- but judging by how Ms Garcia just glanced and turned back to the man in front of her, I was guessing she already knew they were coming or was just extremely comfortable having them here. She must know them all well. That made me feel safe being around them as well...

I dropped my guard, letting out a sigh of relief.

" _¿Que está pasando?_ " I heard the man ask Ms Garcia what was happening, "You sounded crazy on the phone, baby!"

So he was the person she was calling a few minutes ago?

She spoke some Spanish back at him to explain the situation and they had a quick conversation that went completely over my head. The other guys came to stand around them as Ms Garcia stopped speaking. "Oh, baby, this is Mason," she said suddenly, grasping his muscular arm and bringing him over to me with a content beam, "Mason, this is my husband, Alejandro."

HUSBAND?!

She was married?!

I felt my eyes open so wide, I was concerned that they would just pop out of my head and then my brain would just explode from the news. She had a husband?! I looked the man over. He looked furious; as any man would after finding out another man wanted to molest your wife and had literally chased her down and threatened to kill her.

His face was slightly twisted in anger but even so, this man looked gorgeous. He had beautifully tanned skin, dark hair and green eyes with pretty pink lips to match. He looked like a runway model with his perfect even skintone and chiseled jawline. He was ridiculously built -- similar to a bodybuilder -- so it was easy to see why Mrs Garcia would call him first after another man threatened her.

That, and he was supposedly her husband. Husbands were supposed to protect their wives and stuff like that... or whatever.

He turned to me with his fury filled stare but controlled it long enough to put on a slight smile and shake my hand. "It's nice to meet you," he said with his deep accented voice. He sounded so smooth... enticing. God, I should really stop examining Ms Garcia's man like this.

Huh... I guess now I had to call her Mrs Garcia officially.

I usually stuck to Ms but some days I alternated between Mrs and Ms just because I didn't really know her marital status before today. It was striking how little I knew about her. Suddenly I felt so selfish. She was always at my house. I was never at hers. She knew all about me; my parents, the abuse, my schooling situation. I knew nothing about her. Before now I didn't even know she was married. I don't know if she has any kids... or if her parents are still alive.

I know nothing!

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied breathlessly, still in shock about the whole situation. The other men asked Mrs Garcia questions. They spoke back and forth as a group and I felt so excluded at that moment. Amongst the group, there was also a white man and a black man but they were both included in the conversation, speaking apparently fluent Spanish and understanding what was being said in the group.

So I was the only one who couldn't speak Spanish?

... Great.

I settled for just silently watching them. In a way, I kind of envied Mrs Garcia. She had all these hot men in her life just ready to protect and help her when she got into a tough spot along with a handsome husband who would come home practically flying to protect her honour. She had so many people who were there for her...

Who did I have?

" _¡Voy a por él!_ " another man said angrily from the group of men, marching to the door. Mrs Garcia's husband seemed to agree with him and followed him to the front door. She panicked, blocking the door and saying something in Spanish that seemed to calm their nerves. "...Not to be aggressive! If he comes here like he said then we'll deal with him," I caught that part when she briefly switched to English, " _Pero_..."

I stopped paying attention when she continued in Spanish. So these men weren't here to go to my house and beat the shit out my father. They were just here for protection. Sad... Part of me would have taken great pleasure in watching my father get his ass handed to him by all these strong men. I just wanted him to feel what I felt; what he made me feel.

I wanted him to feel each and every ounce of pain that he put me through. I wanted to watch him be me for a minute. I wanted him to suffer like I do...

I hope he dares to come back to this house.

A sick part of me wished he really was as dumb as I knew him to be. A sick part of me was so fucking excited to see him march himself back here and try something. I wanted him to try something while all these burly 'protectors' were here. Just to see him in pain. All to see him suffer.

Am I crazy for wanting that?

Mrs Garcia introduced me to the men when they had finally calmed down enough. "Honey, this is Harry Diaz, my cousin on my father's side. Jade Harrison, my brother-in-law, he's married to my sister, Hazel Diaz. And Caden Nickels, he's Alejandro's best friend. This is..."

I zoned off during her long introductions and additional information on each person. When I snapped out of my thoughts, somehow we had all ended up in the living room. I think the men were spending the night because they all looked like they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. I was glad they were all staying over at Mrs Garcia's home. It made me feel safe.

Time passed by slowly but somewhat fast and soon it was night time. Everyone was still up and talking when I left the group to get a glass of water.

Thankfully, they had stuck to speaking English so I could participate in the conversation. I think Mrs Garcia had something to do with that change. I was grateful though. It felt good to be around so many people. It was weird for me at first because I wasn't used to being so... social. But talking to all of them just made me feel accepted; included.

As I stood in front of the kitchen window and poured a glass of water, my suspicions were confirmed when suddenly a hand banged the window and a face appeared outside. I jumped back, nearly dropping the glass in my hand. It was my father. I knew it. I knew he would be stupid enough to come back.

Typical hothead Dean Hopkins.

"Open the door, son," I heard him say through the glass. I froze and stared at him. I could still hear the water running in the back of my mind as it overflowed my glass and drenched the entirety of my left hand. I watched him. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was drunk or high on something. Knowing him, he most likely was. He spoke softly, coercing me to let him into the house.

"...No," I let out, not sure if he even heard me.

His face twisted immediately so I was sure he did. His red eyes filled with anger and his lip curled upward. He raised a baseball bat, looking like he was going to break the window. Just then Mrs Garcia rushed into the kitchen. "Baby, are you okay? I heard--" she was cut off by a big bang and screamed as the window was shattered.

I took my eyes off of him for one second to see Mrs Garcia fall to her knees in shock. When I turned back, he was already halfway through the window, grunting angrily as he climbed inside. I felt panic set in and spilled my water in his face in a pathetic attempt to stall him. It only seemed to make him more angry though. I turned the tap off and rushed to Mrs Garcia.

I lifted her up off the ground, knowing we'd have to run from him when he made it into the house. As soon as I got her up, we made a dash to the living room.

"GET BACK HERE!" my father shouted but we kept running forward.

When we reached the hallway, I ran into something hard and fell to the floor. Looking up from the ground, I see Mrs Garcia's husband towering above me. As we were running away, they were running towards us and I had run straight into his broad chest. He reached down and pulled me to my feet in one swift but gentle motion.

He kept his hands by my waist to keep me sturdy when I almost lost balance from the sudden lift. "What?! What happened?! Mason!" he asked frantically. I couldn't talk. I just lifted a finger, pointing towards the kitchen. Alejandro turned quickly, staring into the kitchen and pulling me to stand behind him for protection. Mrs Garcia was no where to be found and I assumed she left to alarm the other men.

I watched Alejandro. His face suddenly twisted in what could only be described as fury. He glared at my father and started marching towards him, meeting him halfway with balled fists. "So it's you, huh?!" he growled, yolking my father up effortlessly like he weighed no more than 20 pounds. He slammed him against the nearest wall. I watched them tussle. My father tried swinging the bat at him but he couldn't really hit since Alejandro was right in his face and he had no room to swing.

The baseball bat soon hit the floor and they fought with only fists. From what I could see, Mrs Garcia's husband was giving him the hiding of his life. The other men suddenly filled the room with Mrs Garcia. Seeing them, my father stepped away from his scuffle with Alejandro, creating distance between himself and all the other men.

He looked a bit bruised in just the few seconds they had swung at each other. Alejandro looked completely fine though except for his dishevelled appearance. The men surrounded my father and he stared at them frantically, obviously not expecting so many people to be here to protect us. Suddenly he reached down, pulling up his pant leg and yanking out a GUN!

An actual fucking gun!

I froze. He pointed it at all of us, shouting words that I couldn't comprehend in my shocked stupor. Everything was happening in slow-motion yet still too fast for me to register. I didnt even lift my hands in surrender. I was too shocked. I can't tell you who snuck up behind him and how... I can't tell you what it felt like to watch him get beaten the same way he beat me all these years...

And I definitely can't tell you how he managed to escape the house and scurry back across the street to our home.

Back to safety.

 

====

 

I sat on the couch the next morning. The TV was on but I definitely wasn't watching it. I was stuck thinking about what happened yesterday. My father had pointed a most likely loaded gun at me. Albeit he pointed it at everyone in the room but while he was swinging that thing around, there came a brief couple of seconds when he had it pointed directly at me.

I could have lost my life last night.

That was a concept that was much to colossal for my mind to grasp...

I could've died.

When did it go this far?

How did I let things slip so far out of hand?

This needed to stop.

"What you thinking about, Mijo?" a voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I lifted my head to see Mr Garcia plant himself on the couch right next to me and throw a muscular arm around it. It was funny how similar they were. Their personalities were so alike and they both called me little Spanish nicknames like Chiquito or Mijo. I had only met Alejandro yesterday and yet already he had really warmed up to me so much.

It made me feel good.

"Just my dad..."

His face immediately turned sour at the mention of my father. He still had some underlying anger towards him. I was sure my dad wouldn't be walking around the neighbourhood any time soon. Lord knows if Mr Garcia got his hands on him again...

Hell would break loose.

"You don't need to be thinking about him, Mason. He's a bad man! I told you... you can live here. With us."

"I couldn't..." I answered meekly.

"Please. I'll go with you to pack your stuff. We can take some of the guys as well if you still don't feel safe. Mason... Valeri and I would love to have you here? Your father isn't stable, _Chiquito_... and I don't see why you won't let us report him to the police. He attacked you! He attacked all of us!"

"He could lose his job..."

"Then maybe it serves him right."

"...I can't."

I got up at that moment and hurriedly walked to the guest bedroom that I was staying in. It was much better than my own room. My parents didn't allow me to choose the colour and they wouldn't even let me decorate it so it was just a plain grey bedroom. This one was different. It was painted a beautiful shade of purple and everything was so colour-coordinated. They had decorations everywhere that tied the whole room together.

I thought about what Mr Garcia told me.

This could be my room. Any other room in the big house that I chose could be mine. The couple was so kind and affectionate; something completely different from what I was used to at home. I could be living here. With them. I could be loved. If I just said yes...

But for some reason, I didn't want to give up on my own family.

Maybe my mom and dad could change and we could be happy.

I heard a meek knock on my door. "Um... come in," I called out. It was weird to have someone knock before entering. My parents just barged in my room; they didn't knock. I watched from the bed as the door slowly opened. Mr Garcia peeked his head inside and spotted me in bed before walking over to me.

He sat beside me on top the covers.

"Hey, kid... Listen..." he started, "I'm sorry if what I said back there offended you. I understand he's your father and I shouldn't have spoken about him like that to you. So I came to apologize."

He never broke eye contact while he spoke. I felt my heart speed up under his powerful stare. He was apologizing to me? Why? Nobody ever apologized to me back home. My parents hit me numerous times but I still haven't received a single sorry. But here was this big strong man apologizing to me over words.

Truthfully I wasn't even angry because everything he said was true.

"It's fine..." I said, not sure how to accept apologies.

"Are you sure? That wasn't very convincing..." he frowned thoughtfully, "Val always says that when she's mad at me... Are you mad at me, Mason? I truly am sorry. When you walked out, I regretted everything that I said to you. I apologize for making you upset. That really wasn't my intention."

I watched him; hanging onto every word he said in his sexy accented voice. This man was fucking hot. I wonder how Mrs Garcia managed to bag a guy like this. He was strong, sexy, sweet; he was the full package. Then again, she was the full package as well. The Garcia's seemed like such a power couple.

"It's alright, I promise. I'm not going to be mad at you for speaking your mind. Especially when it's the truth..." I admitted. Whether I would like to accept it or not, my father had issues; both my parents did. But just because they had issues didn't mean I should just turn my back on them. They were still my parents regardless of their problems. We all had problems. Nobody's perfect.

"Does this mean you'll stay?"

"...Maybe I can help them."

"Some people can't be helped, Mason."

"But what kind of son would I be if I didn't try?"

He sighed.

Alejandro let it go afterwards and I had a great amount of respect for him for not pushing the subject and pressuring me into staying. He respected my decision and I respected him for doing so.

I left on Sunday and took the seemingly never-ending walk across the road to my own house. Valeri and Alejandro weren't mad at me for going. Sure, they thought I was completely idiotic for going back and hell, even I thought I was stupid for going back there. But they said nothing. And I admired them for their silence.

But I felt this was just something I needed to do.

If only I knew what I was walking into...

Before I realized it, he was on me.

He pounced on me as soon as I entered like a wild dog that's been awaiting his prey. Kicking, punching, screaming. Before long, I was back where I had started. Lying on the floor; defenceless.

"DEAN! GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!" I heard my mother, "DEAN!"

In that position on the floor, getting the shit beaten out of me... strangely the only thing I could think about was: " _When did she return? How was her trip? Is she stopping this because she loved me or because of the social worker situation?_ "

I didn't even bother to think of begging him to stop. I knew he wouldn't. It was in that moment that I realized my own stupidity. How silly of me to think that they could change? How stupid of me to think that I could be the one to change them?

Everything hurt.

Blood was dripping into my eyes and I could barely see my surroundings.

Just when I was about to lose consciousness, I heard something...

"HEY!"

It was a male's voice.

I had heard it before...

I couldn't remember when.

He was inside the house.

Right behind my father.

I moved my arms away from my head long enough to see him.

There he was; in all his glory.

 

So angry.

 

_So beautiful._

 

At first I thought I was imagining him. Maybe my father had hit me in the head one too many times and caused desperate hallucinations... but when I saw how pale my mother got upon seeing him I knew he wasn't just in my head.

I wasn't making it up.

I wasn't making _him_ up.

He was really here.

 

Skye Harrison.


	5. Venom of the Vipers

_How silly of me  
To have been so blindly living half a life  
I thought that I knew all there was to know...  
Until I felt your kisses  
And the funny foreign feelings that hold hands with them  
I did not know life until I met you  
I did not know love until I met you._

_\- Mason Gray_

\------

 

I watched from the ground as Skye tried to pry my father away from me, shouting at him to stop his assault. To my surprise, he refused to listen. My father had been on edge about doing something to me that would get him in trouble with Mr Harrison but now that Skye was right in front of his face, it seemed he was too angry to even care about the consequences right now.

He was beating me right in front of him!

He didn't even care.

I wondered what Skye would do. Part of me expected him to just back out and pretend he never saw anything. I don't know why I expected him to just walk out. I guess it was just because nobody ever stood up for me in the past so I guess I just kind of expected it to be the same as all those times before.

How wrong was I...

A separate entity seemed to possess him and he grabbed my father with such tremendous strength, flinging him into the adjacent wall . His strong facial features were clenched in anger; soft pink lips pulled into a firm line. His big chest seemed to puff out. Every muscle of his perfectly sculpted body looked taut and flexed, prepared for confrontation.

I had never seen such beautiful fury...

They stared each other down in a tense stand-off that seemed to even make the air heavy. I expected my father to back down but by the way he charged at Mr Harrison, it was clear that I had underestimated the hothead that was Dean Hopkins. He swung on him but Mr Harrison stepped away from the blow just in time for it to miss his jaw. He grabbed my father and forcefully shoved him against the wall to subdue him.

My father still wasn't backing down.

He struggled against the submitting hold and tried to get more blows in despite his already bruised condition from the Garcia residence. Dean Hopkins was a fighter. He always has been. Even though he had gotten his ass handed to him just a few days ago, he still wanted to fight. Getting beaten didn't destroy his ego. It didn't even shrink it. He still thought he could win this fight. He still wanted to assert his dominance.

Somewhere in his frantically thrown arms, he managed to land a single punch against Skye's cheek. I watched his face contort almost immediately. He looked almost offended by the punch and before I could even blink, he had struck my father back. I gasped at the force and felt my body move forward instinctively. I didn't know who I was going to save but I lurched forward when they both began throwing punching.

My mother grabbed me, holding me back and away from both men.

I knew why.

Watching those two brawl was like the clash of titans. They were swinging wildly and moving about. There was no doubt that I would have gotten seriously injured if I had attempted to go between them and stop it. Things were breaking. Punches were flying. People were bleeding. This needed to stop!

Mr Harrison got one up on my father when he dropped him to the floor. He got on top, pounding his face with a furious barrage of punches.

"STOP!"

I thought the blood-curling scream came from me but when I turned my head, I saw that it was my mother. She was clutching onto me a bit too tightly and I never seemed to notice until just now. Her face was twisted in pure concern. She was shaking, reaching out to the two men fighting but not physically touching them.

It was the first time I had ever seen fear in this woman's eyes.

Tears were rolling down her face as she watched on.

I turned back to them. It was obvious to see why she was in such a state. My father had been reduced to a bloody puddle on the floor. It must've been horrifying for her; especially since this was supposedly the man she loved. In his state, it was hard to even make out his face!

All I could see was blood.

It was clear that this had gone too far...

But why was it so satisfying to watch?

'Hit him...' a foreign voice spoke in my head. I nodded along to it, watching the fight go on. 'Hurt him...' it said. Yes! Hurt him! Make him feel pain. Each strike he received was well overdue. He needed this. All of it. Yes!

' **Kill** him...'

I snapped out of it, noticing a smile on my face that I hadn't intended to express. I thought about it. Did I really want him to die? Did he really deserve to die? In fact, was it even up to me to decide who lives and who dies? I had no such power. It wasn't up to me to say...

That kind of power was for the God's hands only.

That is, if there really is such a being.

"Enough! SKYE!" I intervened, obviously without physically separating them. I wasn't crazy enough to try that kind of stunt. Now it was up to him. He could overlook me or he could listen and stop this madness.

Surprisingly, he complied.

His fist paused in mid-air.

He stared down at my father in a mad rage, looking tempted to just bring his fist down in my father's face again. But he didn't. He got up, still glaring at my father from above. "Yes! Just... leave!" my mother shouted weakly, still clutching onto me. This was the first time she had touched me in years; the first time she held me.

The only time we had physical contact was when she was hitting me.

Skye ignored her, not moving from his spot and continuing to tower over my unconscious father. "Get your stuff, Mason," he said, not even looking at me when he said it. I sat on the floor and watched him for a moment. Get my stuff? For what? Why?!

After a few seconds of silence, he turned to me. I nervously jumped back a bit, not expecting him to just suddenly look at me like that. "Mason..." was all he said. His tone wasn't threatening, but it definitely was stern. I didn't want to disobey him. His eyes still held murder within them. Lord knows what would happen to me if I defied him while he was pissed off.

_But for some reason I knew he'd never hurt me..._

Still. Better safe than sorry.

I rushed to my feet and tried to walk away but I was pulled back suddenly between steps. I turned swiftly, surprised to see it was my mother desperately clutching onto my pant leg. "You can't take my son away!" she yelled at Mr Harrison furiously wiping away at her tears with her free hand. He didn't even seem fazed by her tone. "It's not up to you," he murmured in disinterest.

She turned to me, looking up from her position on the floor. "Mason... don't go," she whispered, still holding onto my clothes. She looked so weak. She was practically begging me to stay with her eyes. I looked deep into them. Those eyes that looked so similar to mine... her face... the face of the woman who gave me life...

My mother was begging me to stay with her.

A mother desperately begging her son not to turn his back on her... like the rest of the world did before him...

It was... underwhelming, really. I had anticipated this moment where she would need me; where she would open up to me. I had expected to feel so much. But looking into her teary, pleading eyes... I felt nothing. I didn't feel like I had a mother's love. I didn't feel safe and cherished. I didn't feel how I felt when Mrs Garcia held me...

There was no love.

"Sorry, mom."

I pried her fingers from my clothing and walked off, trying to pretend I couldn't hear her calling after me. She didn't love me. She never could. She was incapable of love...

She couldn't even learn 'cause she was stuck in her ways.

And she just proved me right when she changed her entire persona and started yelling profanities at me when it was clear I wasn't going to change my mind about leaving.

Simply...

Stuck in her ways.

====

I sat quietly in the passenger seat, leaning my head against the window. We've been driving for more than 10 minutes now and I still haven't asked him where it is we're going yet. Truthfully, I was a bit scared to do so. I peered over at him from the corner of my eyes. I could tell he was still angry because he was clutching the steering wheel a bit too tightly.

The white on his knuckles was even visible.

I looked away, settling for watching the scenery go by even though all I wanted to do was watch his face. I don't know why but I just wanted to stare at him. He fascinated me...

But then again, the scenery fascinated me as well. Oh, when had I last been in a car?! I don't remember. I never went anywhere especially by car. It was great to finally see what the rest of the world looked like since the only world I knew for the longest time was just the confinement of my own home. Everything was so beautiful! Especially the man next to me...

I glanced at him in my peripheral vision once more.

God, why was I behaving this way? It was so out-of-character for me! I pulled my eyes away from him but soon they found their own way back. I was very openly gawking at him! I must have been looking for too long because he seemed to notice. He turned towards me when we stopped to give right of way.

My breath hitched and my heart sped up as soon as we made eye contact. I found myself quickly turning away and adjusting myself in my seat to face the other way. Oh my God! That was so stupid! He already looked directly in my eyes! There was no need to quickly pretend I wasn't looking! I must've looked ridiculous when I just turned like that! I wonder what he was thinking...

So. Fucking. Embarrassing.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, immediately regretting it. That sounded so unattractive. I played the sound over and over in my head, hating how it sounded. Why did people even clear their throats in the first place?! Why the FUCK would I just clear my throat right now?! That was so dumb! I'm sure he heard it... I wonder if he also thought it was unattractive...

God!

'Come on, Mason! Why do you even want to be attractive for him?!' I scolded myself mentally. Mr Harrison was much older than me. Well, not really. He looked to be somewhere in his twenties. But I'm only 15! Still! That's a huge age difference! He wouldn't like me that like...

Plus, I'm a boy. What if he didn't like boys?

Then again, I don't like boys either. I'm asexual.

What I feel towards Skye Harrison must just be something else; some foreign feeling I haven't experienced yet. Yeah, that's it. I'm not attracted to him, I just feel... something. Something I haven't been able to properly classify as yet...

Something that I'm confusing for attraction...

I was suddenly alarmed when the car came to a complete halt. Where were we? I raised my head to look through the windshield at the building we had parked in front of. Was this the homes that mistreated children came to?

I must say, it's a bloody gorgeous home!

So when you're abused, you come to this... this sanctuary?! What the bloody hell was I waiting for?! All this time I could have been here but I chose to stay in my average, bland house being tormented! Tormented! While I could have been living like a goddamn KING in this place!

"Wow..." I said under my breath, completely taken by the beauty of the house.

Skye exited the car while I stared up at the building in awe. I heard the door open and noticed he had walked around the car to open the door for me to come out. It was just like I saw it in the movies. He stood at the door and waited patiently for me to stop gawking and actually come out. He didn't rush me or even complain about it. He just watched with mildly amused eyes.

I finally stepped out and he closed the door. I looked down at my feet as soon as I stood in front of the house. I was standing in the driveway. Even the driveway had this beautiful design to it that looked expensive. Everything was so nice!

Skye took my bags from his car and I felt a bit bad for letting him take all of them by himself but he stressed that he didn't mind doing it and when I tried, he wouldn't let me hold my own luggage. I found it cute, really. Once again, it was just like the movies and the books. A perfect gentleman. It was exciting to live in someone's fantasy for a moment.

"This place is amazing!" I gushed as we walked up to the door.

"Thank you."

I frowned.

"Thank you?" I asked. Odd that he would thank me for complimenting what was a government-built haven for mistreated kids. "What was it that I should have said?" he frowned as well, stopping in his tracks.

"I don't know. It's just weird that you would say 'thank you'..." I shrugged and kept walking. I had halted too close to him. Our shoulders even touched! I couldn't stay there. Being so close to him was making me hot...

He chuckled. "Well, you complimented my home. I think saying 'thank you' was appropriate."

Okay, now I'm confused. "Your home? You live here as well?" I asked. I don't get it. Maybe social workers had to stay in the institution with the kids? I really don't understand. He laughed. I frowned deeper, waiting for him to stop laughing and explain.

"As well? Mason... I live alone."

It finally sunk in. This wasn't any institute! This was Skye's home. This was his actual, watch-tv, go-to-sleep, shower-and-brush-teeth, home! This is where he lived and did everyday things. I looked the house over again. "THIS IS YOUR HOUSE?!" I couldn't help but yell in shock. So unattractive... but that didn't bother me much right now. How the hell did he have a house like this?! Who the hell lived in a place like THIS?!

He chuckled awkwardly as he unlocked the door and opened it. By his reaction, I could tell his wealth wasn't something that he enjoyed flaunting around. He was being extremely humble about his home. I liked the fact that he was like that. Skye didn't go around acting like he was better than everyone else because he had money.

Wealth had the ability to change almost everyone who possessed it. I guess I just found it... sexy that even though he was wealthy, Skye never lost his golden character. His personality outshines his riches. He was still down to earth and extremely generou--

Wait!

Did I just say Skye was sexy?!

Oh my God...

I blushed heavily at the thought and followed him inside, watching him the whole time. It was no secret that Mr Harrison was bloody attractive. I looked him over. His clothes were still a mess, he still had blood on his shirt and a bit on his face from fighting my father and some had even dried on his hands.

He looked a mess.

A beautiful mess.

Somehow, in his state, I still managed to feel that... something that he made me feel without even knowing it. I watched him. This man didn't even know the effect he had on me. He moved about the room fluidly, oblivious to his power. When did I start to feel this way about him? Maybe him saving me had caused me to see him in a different light. The way he fought like that to protect me...

Nobody had ever done that for me before.

Well, except for Alejandro.

I didn't want to call it love because this was much too soon for things like that. This was only my second time seeing him in person! I couldn't love him already when we've only had one real conversation! But I felt... okay I'll admit it...

I felt attracted to him.

It puzzled me because this was the first person I've actually felt attracted to. All my life I thought I was asexual. Turns out, I just needed somebody to spark up that flame inside of me. Now it was burning more than ever. Actually, it was scorching!

How do I put it out?

I wasn't used to feeling like this! It's so... odd. I sat on the couch. It smelled like him. In fact, everything in this house smelled like Mr Harrison. It filled my nostrils, covering my entire being with his tantalizing fragrance. I couldn't run from what I felt even if I tried. Anywhere I'd run to, I would just be smacked in the face by his alluring smell.

I would be smacked in the face by the reality that I was starting to feel something for this man.

"I need to take you home," he spoke.

I broke out of my thoughts, quickly snapping my head towards him in surprise. Take me home? What! Why would he want to take me back there even after seeing what I have to go through?! Maybe... maybe he just didn't want to be around me? Am I annoying? Did he not want me to stay with him...? Maybe he could see the way I felt about him and he didn't like it? Is he uncomfortable with me?

So many thoughts were racing through my mind. But the only thing I could manage to ask was "why?".

Why the sudden change in behaviour? Why was he just tossing me aside now? Why discard me?

"You can't stay here. Mason, I... what I did for you was illegal," he rushed out. He stopped pacing and sat beside me on the couch, placing his head in his hands. I felt tears begin to pool in my eyes. I didn't want to cry right now but I honestly didn't understand why he would basically kick me out like this. I didn't understand and truth be told, I was shit-scared to go back there and face the wrath of my parents.

But after I got sad and confused...

I got angry.

"You brought me here and now you just want to take me home!? You're the reason I left anyway! So why make me leave when you forced me to be here?! What the hell is your problem!?"

He watched me calmly, allowing me to shout at him. It was so hard to stay angry at that beautiful face. When I was done, he scooted closer and placed a warm hand on my thigh to calm me down. Somehow it had an opposite effect. It didn't calm me down; it only made the fires within me rage harder. He was so close.

I wanted to kiss him.

For some reason, I just felt that I should...

But I've never kissed anyone before and I didn't want to make a fool of myself.

"Please, Mason, relax," he spoke softly, soothing me instantly, "It's not that I don't want you to be here. I really do! But this is against the law..."

"How is it against the law?" I asked in a matching tone, "You're a social worker; don't you have the right to take people from their houses?"

"Well, yes. But there's a certain procedure that I need to follow. I can't just take you the way that I did. And I definitely can't just host you in my own household. I need to follow proper procedure and then place you in the homes. I failed to do so. So what we're doing right now is illegal, Mason..."

I could barely pay attention to what he was saying. All I could focus on was the gentle rubbing of his hand going up and down my thigh. He seemed to not realize he was doing it but I could not miss it. It was making me hot!

"B-But... can't you say it was an emergency removal? I mean... you can take me away from home? Can't you? Isn't that what you do? I... I can't go back there! You need to understand, Skye! I just can't!" I replied desperately. Just the mere thought of going home after what happened not even an hour ago terrified me.

"Mason, an emergency removal would have required me to take you to the police station than have you put in a temporary foster home. Not in my house," he spoke calmly. How could he be so calm at a time like this?! It irked me!

"I can't go back there! I don't want to go back there! N-Not now, not ever! You need to understand! I can't! I can't, Skye! I can't!" I repeated. I'm not sure when it started but soon the tears were streaming down my face and I could feel my body shaking. Skye's hands were on me in an instant, pulling me closer to his much bigger body.

His right hand rested on my head, bringing it into his muscular chest. I felt the left one on the small of my back, holding me to him. His scent filled my nose instantly and I drowned in the feeling of his big strong body holding me close and his soft voice in my ears telling me that everything would be alright and let me tell you...

I have never felt more safe than I did being in Skye's arms.

He's such... a MAN.

"Come here..." I heard him mutter, and I obliged. I felt my body move of its own accord, nuzzling further into him and even going as far as to clutch onto the fabric of his shirt. I felt the shivers run through me when he held me tighter...

I needed to accept it...

There was no denying that I was falling for this man.

Maybe he wouldn't like me back and that's okay... because just him being able to make me feel like this is all that I could ever want.

For years, the only emotion I've ever felt was pain. For once, it would be nice to feel something different. He didn't have to like me back because I knew that no matter how he felt towards me... whenever I am near him... I'm always going to have these butterflies in my stomach.

And I loved it.

Every moment of it.

 

====

 

Days passed and soon it's been weeks of me staying with Skye. Living with him was admittedly the happiest I had ever been. The first morning, I had made sure to wake up early and clean his house to say 'thank you' to him for letting me stay. That, however, blew up in my face. He didn't like that I had done that and told me that if he wanted something in return, he would've asked me.

He flat out reprimanded me for cleaning his house.

So I never did it again.

I'm not sure if feeling this way makes me a lazy person... but not having to do anything at Mr Harrison's house was the best thing ever. It was so amazing to just relax and have things done for me for once. I didn't have to scramble to make sure the house was spotless before he came home and the best thing was that I didn't have to live in fear of him. I didn't have to be afraid of him snapping at any moment and beating me senseless.

It was so different from living with my parents.

He had two ladies come in every few days to clean the house and the rest was taken care of by Mr Harrison himself.

Skye cooked for me and everything.

When he found out that I watch educational programmes, he went out and bought me books, pens, pencils, and even those pens that come in a whole lot of different colours!

He was always so supportive of everything I did.

I'd speak to him of my greatest dreams and aspirations.

He knew I wanted to be a writer and he supported me 100% just like I knew he would. He'd motivate me to write poetry and stories. I never could write a story though, but my poetry was in full supply. I'd give him poem after poem and he'd read each one of them and give me his opinion -- which mostly consisted of him praising me.

Everything this man did made me fall even deeper.

It had gotten so bad so quickly and now... all I could ever think about was him.

My journal knew him all too well.

I would write all about him and the way he made me feel. Lord forbid he ever finds it. Just as my mind had begun to think of him, he walked through the door in his suit and tie. I felt myself light up with excitement; like a dog perking up at the sight of their owner. I tried my best to contain myself and remain seated on the couch instead of bolting to meet him at the door.

Losing interest in my magazine completely, I discarded it on the table and settled for watching Mr Harrison walk towards me while loosening his tie. He looked edible in his tight shirt and tailored pants. He opened his top shirt buttons as well, exposing a teasing view of a well-sculptured chest.

I could smell him from the couch; that sexy masculine scent that I loved so much. He smiled... and I lost control. I leaped from the couch and threw myself into his arms in a tight embrace. He hugged me everyday when he returned home from work and every single day, I would be eagerly waiting for it.

I drowned in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me and his body against mine. I held him tighter; bringing him into me. Closer. I wanted him closer to me. Shamelessly putting my face in the crook of his neck, I took a deep breath. I don't know what came over me but I just wanted to breathe him in. I needed to inhale his intoxicating scent.

What is this man doing to me?!

"Wow. You really missed me today, huh?" he teased me. I pulled back slightly, enough to look into his eyes but still have a firm hold on him. "You have no idea," I said softly, losing myself in his deep hazel pools that almost seemed to sparkle. Everyday, this man got more beautiful in my eyes.

I don't know if it's love or just plain infatuation...

But I know I feel something.

"I'm sorry, I can't be long. I just came to grab a bite and head back to work," he said sadly. I felt myself deflate when the excitement completely drained out of me. I couldn't even spend the rest of the day with him. "But why? It's Friday..." I pouted. "I know, Mason, but I need to work. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," he pleaded, still holding me by my waist.

I gave into him. Besides, who am I to get upset with him for having to work? 

"It's fine, Mr Harrison. I'll just--"

"Whoa! _Mr Harrison_?! Who's that? I don't know a Mr Harrison besides my father. But don't worry, Mason, if I manage to find him somewhere in the house, I'll let you know. Okay?"

I involuntarily burst out laughing at his words. "I'm sorry! It was a mistake, SKYE!" I chuckled, emphasizing his name. He didn't like it when I addressed him as 'Mr Harrison' but sometimes it just slipped out! I'm working on it...

"That's more like it," he snickered, and did that cute little half-smile he always does when he's trying not to laugh at something. He's so perfect. I could stare at him all night.

"Anyway... there's some things we need around the house, so... if it's not a problem, could you please go out and grab some groceries? I already wrote a list thinking I'd have time to pick up everything but I need to go to work, so..." he just left it hanging there, scratching the back of his head.

I could tell he felt a bit awkward asking this of me but this was the first time he ever asked me for anything since I've been here so I was thrilled to do it. I just wanted to make him happy.

"Yeah! Sure! I'll go right now," I smiled enthusiastically, slipping on my shoes.

Skye lived just down the road from the store so I was prepared to walk there like I've done once before when I just wanted to explore the neighbourhood during the endless hours of free-time I've had. "No. I don't want you to walk. I'll drop you off there. I can ask Nathan to pick you up later."

Nathan is Skye's neighbour and close friend. He's a really nice guy but I don't wanna bother him.

"I don't wanna be a burden and besides, you didn't eat yet, Skye. You need to eat before you head back to work."

"I'll stop and get something on my way back. It's fine. Let's go," he smiled, patting me on the back, proceeding to fix his suit again.

 

======

 

Paying for everything with the money Skye gave me, I stuffed the change in my pocket and exited the store with the bags. Skye had given me his phone to contact Nathan to come get me. Supposedly Skye had already asked him and he agreed so all I had to do was call to let him know it's time to come pick me up.

I stared at the contact saved as 'Nate', eventually coming to the conclusion that it was just down the road so I wasn't going to call Nathan for a ride. Skye just needed to stop stressing so much. Nothing is going to happen to me if I just walk back from the store.

It was a bit late; late enough for street lights to be on but not late enough for Skye to be worrying about me being out. I could even see the house from here!

I made it back in no time and I was stunned by what I saw...

Black and white ballons littered the entire living room. I looked around at all the little lights that made everything look so beautiful. I gasped in shock, dropping the bags that were still in my hands.

_What's going on here?_

"Do you think it's time to go get him now?" I heard Nathan's voice from the other room.

"I don't know, Nate," I heard Skye's voice, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps, "I gave him my phone so he can cal--"

He froze when he locked eyes with me, obviously not expecting me to be here. "Oh," was all he said. I looked him over. He was no longer wearing his suit. The little lights illuminated his beautiful face in an almost angelic way and somehow managed to make him look even more breathtaking. He held my gaze, slowly breaking into a gentle smile.

"Skye..." was all I could say. My lip trembled and my vision blurred. I couldn't help the tears. I can't believe he would actually do something like this for me.

"Mason," he whispered back, slowly approaching me. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I wish you would have called so I could know that you were coming... but I think I got everything done in time," he said, looking around the room in approval of his own work. His eyes flew back to mine and my heart sped up at how close he was.

"Do you like it?" he whispered hopefully.

"I love it!" I smiled, my voice breaking and more tears falling from my eyes as I looked around. His soft hands landed on my cheeks, wiping my tears away. I closed my eyes, shamelessly rubbing my face into the gentle palms of his big hands and revelling the feeling of having him touch me so intimately.

He smiled, leaning forward and placing a sweet kiss on my forehead.

"Happy birthday, Mason," he whispered.

I looked around.

I couldn't believe he had actually done this; in fact, it was shocking to me that he actually remembered. For a moment, it had slipped my own mind that today was my birthday until I had walked in on this. My parents never did anything special for me; they haven't even said a simple "Happy Birthday" to me in years since they never remembered it.

But Skye did.

He remembered.

He went through all this trouble just for me...

"This is for you," he said, taking some flowers off the counter and handing it to me. They were planted in a little pot which I appreciated. I didn't like flowers that were cut since the idea of destroying nature bothered me. And he knew that...

I examined the flowers closely; Cymbidium Orchids; commonly known as Boat Orchids. My favourite flowers. And he knew that...

I recalled having this conversation with him the day I started staying here, in the middle of the night over a tub of ice cream. We sat in a blanket on the couch and got to know each other. I didn't actually think that he would keep everything I said in his mind. But he surprised me. He remembered everything...

He knew my favourite colours were black and white. He knew I didn't like the idea of destroying nature. He knew my favourite flowers; and that I loved fairy lights. He knew my birthday was today even when I myself had forgotten about it. He knew everything about me.

_Jesus._

I had already established that I had feelings for this man a while ago but him doing all this for me had made me fall even deeper for him.

Who raised this guy?!

He's perfect!

I openly stared at him, taking in every detail of his beautiful face and neat brown hair. I watched him smile, the fairy lights making his eyes appear to twinkle. Maybe I was just moving too fast; but all I wanted to do in this moment is kiss him. My hand fell gently on his cheek and he watched me take a step towards him.

Putting the potplant against my side so it wouldn't be between us, I pressed our bodies together.

I don't know what I was thinking...

Or if I was even thinking at all...

But soon I had him as close to me as humanly possible. I could feel his hard, toned body pressed up against me and his breath lightly tickling my face. I couldn't believe that I was this close to him and with a final look into his captivating hazel eyes, I was smitten.

Before I knew it, I had leaned in to him, closing the small distance between our faces. I felt his soft lips against my own. They felt exactly as I had imagined them to feel and I couldn't get over the sensation of having his lips on mine. My hand weaved into his hair like I saw in the movies and I held his head in position, losing myself in his delicious lips.

Coming back to reality, my eyes snapped open, instantly meeting his which were still open and looking at me in shock. He wasn't even kissing me back!

Oh my God...

What have I done?!

I quickly pulled away, slapping a hand over my mouth. I was shocked by my own actions; I can't believe I really just forced myself on him like that. I wondered what he must think of me now...

We stared at each other in a stunned silence before he opened his mouth to say something.

"Hey, Skye! I think I'm gonna take a drive to th--" he was interrupted, "Oh. You're here. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

I watched Nate as he walked towards me with a party hat in hand and the biggest smile I've ever seen plastered on his face. "Oh, don't look so shocked. Be happy, Masey! It's your birthday!" he yelled enthusiastically, pulling me into a bear hand and putting the silly hat on my head. I stole a glance at Skye and watched him smile when he saw me in the party hat.

I couldn't help but smile too.

**It's my birthday!**

Even though I might have just destroyed my beautiful friendship with Skye... I'm still going to enjoy this night because I think I deserve it.

I haven't had a birthday party in YEARS!

You best believe I'm going to enjoy this one.

I broke into a wide smile, even feeling tears begin to pool in my eyes.

"Thank you so much, guys."

"Don't thank us just yet..." Nathan dragged out with a devious smile that made me wonder what the two had up their sleeves.

"W-Why?" I hesitated to ask, looking between Nate and Skye for answers.

"We have one more surprise," Skye smiled, gesturing for me to follow him to the dining room. I followed with uncertainty, dying to know what the next surprise was. "What is it?" I asked impatiently, feeling my excitement growing rapidly. "More like who is it," Nate laughed. "Huh?" I frowned deeply.

"Somebody is here to see you, Mason," Skye smiled, gesturing to a lady pouring a glass of wine. She turned around and I felt the air get knocked out of my lungs in pure shock.

She grinned at me.

"Well, hey there, Birthday Boy!"

I couldn't believe it....

 

"Mrs Garcia?!!"


End file.
